


Briar Rose and the Dwarrow

by WaxRhapsodic



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Cultural Differences, Discussions of Fertility Issues, F/M, Falling In Love, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fertility Issues, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Forced Marriage, Hobbit Fertility, Mentions of Multiple Pregnancy Loss, Mentions of miscarriage, Misunderstandings, My First Work in This Fandom, Romance, Size Difference, Slow Build, Slow Romance, fem!Bilbo, rule 63 bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-17 20:42:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 54,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13666923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaxRhapsodic/pseuds/WaxRhapsodic
Summary: Briar Baggins stumbles upon a wounded dwarf one cold winter day and rescues him, bringing him into her home and changing the course of destiny in a matter of well meant hours!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the properties or characters found herein. This is a not for profit fanwork

Briar tensed as a howl rent the still winter air. She shook her head to clear her worries about her parents, still out in cold. Surely they would be cautious heading home. 

Another howl echoed through the air. She hoped no one was out in the aftermath of the blizzard that had just ended hours earlier. There had been a curfew imposed except in direst emergencies. Hopefully everyone abided by it. She peeked through the curtains and frowned at the sight of the heavy winter sky. Another blizzard was already in the making, or perhaps it was simply a continuation.

Hands trembling she set about making herself a cup of tea, selfishly wishing she wasn’t home alone. It’s not like Posy chose to go into labor during a blizzard, or made the baby breach requiring Belladonna's expertise. Posy's father had braved the weather to beg help from Bag End and of course Bungo had gone with her as additional protection from the elements and the inherent threats therein. Company on a day like this would be heaven sent. She was just stepping out of the pantry with a small platter of currant rolls when she heard what sounded like a low groan. Briar knew every creak and groan of her beloved smial and that one was new. She stilled for a moment, head tilted to one side, waiting for the sound to come again or prove to be her imagination. There came a soft shuffling and another groan then nothing.

She could clearly hear her fathers voice in her mind telling her to stay indoors where it was safe. If some harm befell her there would be no one to aid her. Another low moan-weaker this time- echoed lowly through the afternoon, making her decision for her. In spite of the howls-which sounded far too close for comfort- she couldn’t ignore the sounds of someone in need be it another hobbit or some poor wounded creature caught out in the cold.

She hurriedly wrapped up in a thick cloak and scarf, hesitating a moment before grabbing a large butchers knife for protection and heading for the door as another warg cry filled the air. 

Taking a deep breath for courage, she opened the door a crack and saw a huge bundle of fur lying still in the snow just off the front walkway of Bag End. In the low light, she couldn’t tell if it was a man or an animal. It was certainly too big to be a hobbit. She waited a moment before stepping out cautiously and approaching the bundle, clenching the knife handle so tightly her knuckles went white. 

The closer she got the more she could make out in the dim winter sunlight. Some of the fur seemed to be hair. She gasped in surprise at the realization, a human dressed for winter! Small for a man so possibly a woman or a child.

Briar dropped her weapon and rushed to their side. They were heavier than they looked and she struggled to turn them over only to find a dwarf. She had never met one in person but had seen them from a distance a few times before. She was inclined to think the dwarf was male but had heard rumors that dams grew beards as well. Of course she had also heard that all dwarves were male but she didn't see how that could possibly be true.

She sighed in relief when she confirmed that the dwarf was breathing steadily, and bleeding steadily if the dull glimmer coating half his face was to be believed. She gently pushed a hank of blood matted hair back from his regal brow. Bright blue eyes opened sluggishly causing her to pull her hand back self consciously just before they drifted closed once again.

He must be one of the Dwarves who had taken back the Misty Mountains after decades of war with the orcs and goblins that had claimed their fallen kingdom. Or perhaps he was one of the settlers from Ered Luin in the Blue Mountains. She glanced around as though the empty day could offer her answers for his presence in her yard but none were forth coming.

There was nothing for it, "Sir dwarf, I'm here to help you but you must rise. I cannot carry you!" she begged, hoping he understood. He shifted slightly and she was able to help him sit up. His weight was still an issue so she hastily removed his heavy layers of fur and capes before wrapping an arm around his waist and struggling to get him to his feet. He was still massive and wearing a great deal of armor but was certainly less unwieldy without the excess material in the way. "Please sir dwarf," she panted, trembling with the effort of assisting him and wondering if it was a lost cause. Perhaps if she screamed one of the neighbors would hear and come to their aid.

Just then low growl sounded nearby putting paid to that idea, silence and time were of the essence. She glanced at her knife, lying a few feet away from where she was trapped by the heft of the dwarfs arm. It would be no use to either of them. But by some miracle the sound roused her dwarf and lent him a burst of energy that saw him surging to his feet and stumbling forward. With great effort Briar was able to steer him towards the smial and through the door, slamming it closed and leaning him heavily against it as she threw the latch, trembling from a mixture of terror, exertion, and bone cracking cold.

They had made it indoors with barely moments to spare. A howl sounded just outside the door, startling the wounded dwarf into lurching forward, hand on the hilt of a massive sword, growling out guttural words that meant nothing to her. "No, no! We're safe now." she rushed to him, placing her hand over his to stop him from drawing the weapon. He looked down at her in confusion, blood pulsing down over his face an neck.

"Come here, let me help you," she said softly hoping he spoke the common tongue or that he could at least tell from her tone that she meant no harm. He narrowed his eyes and slowly took his hand from the hilt before letting her help him stagger to a stop in front of the fireplace in the den. He all but collapsed into her father's favorite chair and she hurried to gather supplies to get him clean and warm.

She cursed her wish from a quarter hour prior. This wasn't the kind of company she'd meant. 

~~

She used the hot water she’d prepared for tea to clean the gash along the dwarfs hairline, rinsing it until it stopped bleeding. She gently cleaned the rest of his face and neck, pressing his hands aside when he reached up to help. "No, no. Let me," she sang gently. knowing from the distant look in his bright eyes that he wasn't fully with her yet.

She tried to fight down her concern about his injury. Head wounds always bleed a lot, but they can also do permanent damage and she didn't want that for her brave, wandering dwarf. Oh how she wished her mother were here with her medical expertise! 

She sat back on her heels to survey him, blinking in surprise at how breathtakingly handsome he was even with a cut along his hairline. With his thick, dark hair, aquiline nose, and eyes a shade of blue she'd never seen on another living being, he was a sight to behold. The crack of a log breaking on the fire startled her out of her reverie with a blush, now was not the time to be ogling her poor, injured guest.

He was still covered in blood and considering she suspected he had fought or been attacked by a wolf or warg, he may have underlying injuries that needed tending. Without any knowledge of armor, it was difficult to remove but she managed with a bit of assistance from her dazed patient, piling it to one side of the room. He gutturally insisted on keeping his sword at hand which she hesitantly allowed to keep him from growing agitated once more.

She sighed when he was fully divested of his armor and wearing nothing but his stockings, trousers, and linen shirt, none of went any way to concealing his powerful, muscular build. And, judging from the fit of those trousers, he was certainly male. She had never seen a person built like him and gave in to the temptation to rest her hand on his upper arm which felt as solid as living marble. She pursed her lips guiltily, ignoring the heat that flared in her lower belly at the thought.

His tunic was stiff and stained with blood but there was nothing in the smial, or likely the shire itself that would fit his broad, muscular build were she to remove it. But perhaps she could wash and return it. It couldn't be comfortable for him to wear his own gore in such fashion.

With his help, she made quick work of lifting the shirt over his head and tugging it free of his tangle of hair. She goggled at the matching thatch of hair that covered his broad chest and trailed down his hard stomach.

Briar's mouth dropped open at the sight. She had never seen muscles so clearly visible beneath skin before. Not to mention the thick black lines of ink that snaked across his arms, shoulders, and upper chest. She had read about tattoos, but never seen them in person. 

In abstract she would have expected to find them academically fascinating but personally repulsive. In reality the sight heated her further and she pressed her thighs together tightly, trying to quell the trembling the sight of his body awoke within her. "Well, aren't you a sight to see?" she said more to herself than her guest who was looking at his surroundings blearily.

Clearing her throat and her mind, she set the shirt aside for cleaning and set about looking him over as impersonally as possible. After vigilantly checking for more wounds and finding none but some deep bruising, she carefully stitched the dwarfs wound closed and bound it tightly with clean linen. By the time she finished, he was clearly at the end of his endurance as those stunning crystal eyes drifted shut again.

She hurried to grab the hourglass from her father's study and sat it at his side, flipping it to rights, knowing she needed to check him once an hour to ensure that he could still wake. She didn't know what her next steps would be if she couldn't rouse him in an hours time. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

She took another few moments to fetch a muscle salve from the stillroom and gently massaged it into the scrapes and bruises that decorated his tattooed torso, taking care not to wake him. That done, Briar stretched, back aching from tending her patient. “I hope you appreciate all this, and aren’t a villain here to rob me blind.” She said to the sleeping dwarf as she tucked him beneath her warmest patchwork quilt and threw another log on the fire.

After a quick snack and a cup of tea, Briar set about putting the smial to rights and set a hearty stew to simmer on the hearth. She knew little of dwarves and if he woke with an appetite she wanted to have something on offer. That done she set his boots by the door and did her best to scrub the blood and ichor out of the pale fabric of his tunic in the washtub. It wasn't a perfect job by any means, but the stain was nearly gone by the time she was satisfied she'd done her best and strung it up to dry in one of the spare rooms they used to dry laundry during the icy winter months.

By the time she was done with her self appointed chores, she had turned the glass three times and been able to wake her guest with little difficulty each time. It was with some relief that she returned to the kitchen to set some bread to rise. Surely her parents and their guest would be hungry, she certainly was after the day she'd had.

~~

By evening, the wind had picked up again and the snow was falling in thick sheets. Briar sighed at the sight, knowing her parents wouldn't attempt to make it home through this. 

Weary to the bone, she washed up and dressed for bed, returning to the den to cover her guest with another quilt only to find the dwarrow nearly convulsing with chills though he was right in front of the roaring fire. She rushed to his side. "Sir dwarf! Dwarf!" She yelled into his ear, grasping him by the arm and shaking him with all her might but he would not wake. Helpless tears filled her eyes at the thought that she'd failed him, that in spite of her best efforts he was dying right in front of her.

Briar panicked, trying to figure out what to do so she wouldn’t wake up to a dead dwarf in her sitting room. She knew of only one sure treatment for being cold to the bone and desperate times called for desperate measures. 

Without a second thought, she further built the fire and set the screen before rushing through the smial, gathering every fleece, fur, and eiderdown she could find and piling them in the den. She hastily built a nest and all but shoved him down into it before climbing in next to him and wrapping her arms around his waist where he lay between her and the fire. "Please be alright. Please be alright," she whispered to him as the convulsions stopped and he still wouldn't wake. As she finally drifted off to sleep to the steady beating of his heart beneath her ear. "Please, please be alright."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin wakes to strange surroundings, romance is in the air!

Thorin woke in a state of confusion. His head ached fiercely though he couldn’t quite recall why. He blinked; eyes blurry with pain and tried to take stock of the situation. He was warm and wrapped in some sort of plush, sweet smelling cocoon with a roaring fire at his back. Considering the reason he’d been out in the storm the day before, this was surely a better outcome than he’d deserved.

Of course none of that explained his presence in this strange home or the tiny person in his arms.

He looked down at the female curled in his arms. She was lovely from what he could see of her profile. Red-gold curls framed a delicately featured face before spilling over slender shoulders. Dainty, pointed ears peaked out of the soft waves. Gold tipped lashes rested against rounded, petal soft cheeks above an adorably snubbed nose and a deep pink, cupids bow mouth.

He marveled at the smooth curvature of her features, of her hairless jaw and small, soft hands. He’d met a few shirelings in passing but it was always a shock to see adults with no facial hair of any kind. The thought made him tense. Was she an adult? And how had they come to be it this position?

His bicep served as a makeshift pillow for her curly head, his other arm wound tightly around her soft, tiny waist, holding her firmly against the expanse of his chest. He tensed further as he registered the gentle press of a large bosom resting against his forearm.

This was a catastrophe.

He had spent the night in the arms of a female who had a child of nursing age so the overwhelming odds were she also had a husband. Had he survived the storm for his life to be forfeit? Though hobbits were peaceful creatures, any male would be well within his rights to defend his wife and home.

The only positive he could find was that the hobbitess was sleeping deeply, seeming perfectly comfortable in his arms. He ignored the small flicker of inappropriate pride that flared to life in his chest at the thought.

The important thing was that there was still time to extricate himself without embarrassing either of them.

 Somehow.

He shifted backwards just a bit but she wriggled her rounded hips and all but arched into him, following his warmth with a small sound of disapproval. For a horrible moment he was terrified she’d woken up, thankfully that wasn’t the case.

He took a moment to breathe and try to calm himself before trying again. Before he got the chance, she shifted and rolled over to face him, tangling her fingers in his chest hair. She sighed deeply as her eyes fluttered open. He fell into their hazel depths for a long moment. She looked up at him drowsily, and gave him a sweet, half asleep smile that he couldn’t help but return.

He saw the moment she woke fully and realized their position. She pulled away from him with a gasp, clutching the sheets to her chest with wide eyes. He let her go easily but with a bit of remorse. He had never held an unrelated female in his arms and wondered if he would ever have another chance.

“You’re alive,” she said happily, kneeling to face him, her hair framing her face in soft waves. She placed a light hand against his forehead which he now noticed was bandaged. “How do you feel?” her changeable eyes flooded with concern.

“Fine. I’m fine,” he made to sit up, pushing back a wave of nausea. She scrambled to help him, not noticing when her unbound breasts brushed against his arm. He flinched away from the touch, not wanting to make the situation any worse.

 She pulled away quickly, “Did I hurt you?”

“No more than I already am,” he assured her, hoping he wasn’t blushing. He was entirely unfamiliar with such situations and knew that he had a sharp tongue when he was uncomfortable. He had to keep her talking or he was sure to insult her in some way.

She gave him a small smile, “Good.” She gave a light, bell like laugh and shook her head. “I’m so relieved. Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Brair Baggins, and this is my home Bag End.”

“Thorin Oakenshield at your service,” he gave his honorific, hoping to impress her on some level, though he could see the name meant nothing to her. “How did I come to be here?”

Her smile slipped away, “you were wounded, I think by a wolf or warg. You made your way into my yard after the storm yesterday afternoon. I found you and brought you inside.” She said eyes troubled. He took a moment to absorb her words before nodding decisively.

He knelt to face her and immediately regretted the way it caused him to tower over her. She was so impossibly small. Her breath hitched nervously as he took her small hands in his callused ones and gazed down into her eyes. “Thank you Briar Baggins. I owe you my life. If there is any way I can repay you, you have but to ask. I am at your service for the rest of my life, however long it lasts.” He vowed, lost in the green-gold of her eyes.

Briar didn’t know what to say to that. It seemed to have a real depth of meaning to him but, “I would have done the same for anyone. I couldn’t leave you out there at the mercy of the elements.” She tried to explain.

That didn’t seem to matter. “As I said, Miss Baggins. I am at your service.” He reiterated firmly.

“Well.” A charged silence fell between them as she dropped her eyes, letting them sweep over the broad expanse of his chest before pulling away with a blush and hastily climbing to her feet. Thorin let go of her hands easily. “I washed your shirt. Let me fetch it for you and we can see about checking your wound and perhaps some breakfast,” she chattered nervously. Not sure what to make of the dwarf, Thorin, now that he was awake. Or of the strange tension that filled her when they touched.

He watched her go, still able to feel the warmth of her hands in his. Her shapely bottom outlined by the soft fabric of her high necked sleeping gown. The thought caught him off guard. The fact that he would even notice such a thing was astounding. He sat back on his heels, heart thundering in his chest as possibilities filled his mind.

Briar couldn’t believe she’d spent the night in his arms. She also couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so warm in the dead of winter. He had been a strangely comfortable pillow for a male so corded with muscle from shoulders to thighs. Like living marble she recalled her thoughts from the night before, feeling her cheeks heat with a blush.

She guiltily thought of Sancho Proudfoot who had made noise about courting her come spring. He was her height, soft, and well rounded as was natural and attractive. _‘Thorin is not a hobbit, it’s not a fair comparison at all. He’s needlessly large!_ ’ she scolded herself as she hurried to her room, already eager to get back to her patient.

~~

Briar quickly washed her face and pulled on a long sleeved, forest green, day dress that laced in the front.  She brushed her feet and hair, pulling it back into the low bun at the base of her neck, bound with a ribbon.

She hurried to the laundry room, glad to see that his shirt was dry and relatively unwrinkled. She paused for a moment, trying to settle her nerves. The light in his eyes when he’d made his vow and the strength contained in his body made her feel shaky but she didn’t want him to think her afraid. She straightened her shoulders and headed back into the den, a welcoming smile on her face.

Thorin looked up from folding a thick quilt at the sound of Briar clearing her throat. She gave him a disapproving look. “You’re going to do yourself permanent damage if you don’t rest. Leave that to me.”

“I’m a dwarf, our heads are made to take punishment, little one.” He said after simply gazing at her for a long moment. She was so lovely she took his breath away.

He had removed the screen from the fire and it’s golden flicker danced across her porcelain complexion, lighting strands of her hair to look like spun gold. Not to mention the form fitting dress she was wearing, it brought out the red in her hair and the green in her eyes. She looked jewel toned in the firelight. He could have looked at her all day and never grown tired of the sight.

She tilted her head at the endearment, “I assure you, I’m the perfect size. You on the other hand are rather too large,” she said primly.

He was amazed at her temerity, “Is that right?”

“Yes! Your shirt is nearly the size of a bed sheet,” she exaggerated greatly, hoping to make him smile again the way he had when she first walked into the room, like he hadn’t seen her in an age.

It worked better than she’d hoped when he gave a short bark of laughter. “Well, thank you for taking the time to wash it for me. It must have been a trial. Allow me to help you set your home to rights as thanks.” He offered again, wanting her to see him as something other than an invalid in her care.

She frowned at that. He was a guest, what kind of host would she be if she put him to work? Not a very good one.

“We’ll see,” she evaded. Do you need help putting your shirt on?” she gestured to the large bruise staining his side.

He shook his head and walked to her side, towering over her with no effort. “No thank you, we dwarves are hearty stuff.” he pulled the tunic over his head with only a slight wince, the muscles in his torso rippling with the effort. She watched out of the corner of her eye then averted her gaze guiltily.

“Are-” she cleared her throat, “Are you hungry?”

He didn’t feel hungry, but that was often true when he was injured or sick. Still, he didn’t want her to worry over much; he was feeling far better already. “I could eat.”

She smiled warmly at that.“ Well, let me set some water to boil. We can have breakfast after I re-bandage your wound.”

He followed her to the kitchen, taking in the odd, rounded shape of the rooms and doorways. The excess of open air and light, so very different from life under the mountains. Though they were underground, he felt oddly exposed. Though he didn’t know if that was the layout of the home, or the hobbit herself making him feel that way.

He sat at the table where indicated and watched her bustle around the room, stoking the fire and hurrying between the stove and the pantry.

He cleared his throat, taking her head tilt as permission to speak, “Your family?” he asked awkwardly. The pictures over the fire place told him nothing. He wasn’t even certain that the hobbitess in the picture was Briar. He could only hope that the male wasn't her husband.

“My parents are out helping a neighbor. They should return any time now. My mother is a far better healer than I am, she’ll see you put to rights.” She gave him a small smile over her shoulder, not knowing the weight that lifted from him at her words. That he wasn’t perverse for desiring another’s wife.

She returned to his side with medical supplies and stood over him, leaving him at eye level with her full cleavage. He had the nearly overwhelming urge to press a kiss to that plump, sweet flesh and gauge her reaction. He held himself in check by counting the tiny freckles spread over the underside of her jaw. 

She leaned over him unselfconsciously and began unwinding the bandage on his head. He stabilized her with a hand to her narrow waist, giving her pause, she looked down at him, tongue coming out to wet her lips. She leaned in, almost in a daze, her hand coming to rest against his cheek.

Briar shivered at the feeling of the thick bristles prickling the palm of her hand. She had never felt the like. She wondered what it would feel like if he kissed her, surely different than the smooth faced boys of her tweens.

His other hand joined the first, nearly spanning her waist effortlessly. He made her feel small, but for some reason she didn’t mind. He tugged her lightly; it would be so easy to resist, to pull away from him from this-whatever it was building between them. Instead she let him pull her sideways onto his lap, her knees between his legs. The thick muscles of his thigh cushioning her bottom; the quivering in her abdomen had become a hum, deep in her bones.

“Briar,” he breathed, pupils dilated but for a narrow line of silver blue, before closing the gap between them.

It was indeed different than any of the boys she’d kissed. His beard scraped her cheeks and lips, but she found she didn’t mind. It was a strangely pleasant sensation. Not to mention the soft press of his slightly chapped lips and the gentle way he held her, like he feared his own strength with her in his arms. Was this what it meant to feel delicate? She wondered wildly, letting her tongue come out to chase the taste of him across her lips.

He groaned at that, pulling her closer so his hands spanned her back, pressing her breasts flush against his chest. She whimpered at the feeling, her breasts had always been so exquisitely sensitive. He groaned low in his throat, feeling his body react to the sweet warmth of her in his arms. She lightly ran her palm up the side of his neck and sank her fingers into the thick hair at the base of his skull, pulling him closer still.

Briar had never been kissed so thoroughly or enjoyed it so much. She felt ample evidence against her bottom that Thorin felt the same. It was a heady feeling, knowing she’d brought out that reaction in him.

~~

 

 

Someone cleared their throat.

 

 

~~

She pulled back to look at Thorin, worried she’d pressed against one of his wounds and caused him pain. But he was looking to their left with something akin to horror.

Briar felt like everything from that point moved in slow motion as she turned to see her mother, eyes wide with shock and regret, and her father who was held in the arms of a massive dwarf with a shaved head. Bungo looked furious, but was visibly wounded and did not have the means to vent his spleen.

They were surrounded by a legion of other dwarves, one of whom was carrying Thorin’s capes and her butchers knife, clearly having collected them from the yard on the way in. They all appeared to be frozen at the sight of them wrapped in each other’s arms.

But worse, far worse than all those combined, were her distant relations Blanco and Primrose Bracegirdle, the biggest gossips this side of Bywater. They were watching this all unfold with barely restrained delight. Briar knew the news would be all over Hobbiton by nightfall, even if they had to go door to door themselves through waist deep snow.

Briar wondered how they had all managed to make it this far inside without her or Thorin noticing. Of course she supposed, heart sinking, they had been rather preoccupied.

Thorin’s hands tightened on her waist for a brief, reassuring moment before letting go. They shared a mutually horrified, commiserative look before it all broke out in chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response to the first chapter! I hope you like this one too! Please let me know what you think! I love comments and try to answer each one! Thank you so much for reading! More to come soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briar and Thorin deal with the aftermath of being caught together!

For long minutes chaos reigned until Belladonna stepped forward and clapped her hands sharply, silencing the Dwarves clamoring around Thorin, shouting questions and aspersions without giving him a chance to answer any of them.

Silencing Briar who had rushed to her side, clearly panicking at the sight of her father’s wounds. Silencing the foul whispers the pair of Bracegirdles were casting about her only child.

Once everyone was quiet she cleared her throat. “Briar, please fetch a tincture of oil of evening primrose for the Bracegirldes to take to Lobelia. She’s having pains too early. Then bring my medical box into the master bedroom.

She turned to the dwarves rest of the dwarves with a grim nod, “Please make yourselves at home. We will be with you shortly.”

~~

In a way, Briar was glad to be kept so busy during the hours immediately following the embarrassing incident. Fetching and carrying for her mother and the Dwarvish healer took up too much of her time for her to think. Though she didn’t see how they could save her father’s arm, or how he was still alive with how much blood he’d lost.

Seeing him in such a state was devastating. Thankfully Oin assured her there was hope that he might yet pull through.

At least she was distracted from the thought of all the damage the Bracegirdles had surely done to her name by now.

Apparently her parents had attempted to return the evening prior but been attacked by a pack of warg riders who’d been tracked through the Shire by the assorted dwarves now gathered in her home.

The Baggins' pony, Sugar Cube, had been killed and their small wagon set alight during the attack. Her fathers left arm and shoulder had been mauled as he defended her mother.

Had the dwarves not arrived when they did, her parents would surely have perished. Her dwarf, Thorin, had been wounded during the skirmish and when the snow started up again had been lost to the rest of his friends.

The very thought made her blood run cold. They had all come so close to total disaster.

Even now her father hovered at the veil between worlds. His arm was unrecognizable and he had lost more blood than he could afford. It was a wonder he’d made it home at all she thought tearfully as she put together some soda bread for their unexpected company.

Baking always cleared her mind, sadly she had nothing but more worries to fill it.

To think, her parents had arrived home to find her in the throes of passion with a stranger! Her reputation was ruined. She knew it as surely as she knew her name. No gentle hobbit of good standing would court her now. She sighed heavily; her mother must be so disappointed.

Briar knew her parents had yearned for more children but only been able to carry her to term. She had always looked on with envy at those with siblings and had hoped to have a large family of her own with a hobbit she respected and could grow to love.

There was no hope for that now. She could only hope she wasn’t packed off to the Great Smials to live under the close watch of her grandparents after this fiasco.

And her reaction to Thorin still baffled her, why was she so eager for his touch? She had never felt this way about anyone before. Even the memory of his touch heated her blood. How was he still single? Surely female dwarves weren't blind.

She frowned suddenly, thinking of the brunet dwarf who looked so much like him. She paled in horror. He had asked about her family but she hadn’t returned the favor.

_What if he already had a wife?_

Had his _son_ walked in on them?

Dear lord what must his companions think of her, taking advantage of a wounded guest?

She wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up beneath her and end her misery.

“Briar, I need to speak with you.” Her mother said wearily from the doorway.

She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to face her but knowing she had no recourse. “Of course, Mama. I’ll be right there.”

~~

Thorin stood to face his traveling companions, trying to will away the massive headache brewing beneath his wound. He hadn’t been looked at with such censure since he was a child and his grandfather caught him at some mischief or another.

This was worse by orders of magnitude. For once he was at a loss for words. The silence stretched uncomfortably.

Nori came back into the room, not that Thorin had noticed him leaving, a grim look on his face. “Follow me if you please.” He was grateful Briar was in with her parent's and Oin. No good could come of her witnessing any of this.

They all clomped down the hall in their boots, Thorin feeling out of sorts in just his stocking feet. Nori led them to a large room containing a desk and several bookshelves.

Dwalin joined them after a moment, closing the door firmly behind him before turning to glare at Thorin. “What did I just see?”

Thorin stood tall, and announced what he’d just discovered for himself when they were so humiliatingly interrupted. “She is my One. The effect of meeting her overcame me and we embraced.”

“I’d say you did more than that, uncle.” Fili said with a snort, though his words did ease some of the tension in the air.

Thorin frowned. “No. What you saw was the extent of it,” he said firmly, trying not to blush at what they were surely thinking had happened.

As if this wasn’t embarrassing enough, no one seemed to believe him. The room was silent but for shuffling feet and the clearing of throats. Knowing looks were exchanged all around him.

Even young Ori who saw the best in everyone was avoiding his gaze. Instead, he was met with stone faced glares and looks of deep displeasure.

“No need to lie, lad. We saw your makeshift bed in the front room. Two head prints and quite a tangle of blankets.” Balin said with a disappointed mien, to a grumble of agreement from the assorted company.

Thorin's head spun at his words.

At the fact that everyone in the hole thought that he’d dishonored a young lady on the floor of her family room. “I swear to you we only slept. The only clear recollections I have are from this morning. You all saw me wounded in the skirmish; I became lost in this warren of a place and landed in her yard quite by mistake.”

Some of the looks had turned from judgmental to skeptical. “So you were here alone overnight?” Bofur asked, still frowning. “Well it’s a good thing she’s your One because I’m betting you’re gonna be marched out for a wedding before the day is through.”

Thorin had nothing to say to that. They were all right to judge and mistrust him. What sort of dwarf was he to take advantage of a beautiful maiden in the absence of any chaperones? Were they Dwarvish her family could have ordered him shorn for this.

“I will make this right. Have no doubt. I have already pledged my life to her for saving it.” Everyone relaxed further and he felt a wave of dizziness flow through him, though at least the headache was receding somewhat. 

Balin took a seat at the desk and sorted through several sheets of vellum. “We’d best begin writing up a betrothal contract to show you mean to keep your word. I’d hate to have to take news to your father about you being strung up for violating the peace.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Dori pursed his lips sanctimoniously. Thorin was silently grateful he hadn’t been caught in a compromising position with one of the stuffy dwarfs’ kin. He was quite sure he wouldn’t have made it out of the kitchen alive. At least not in his, injured, unarmored state.

It really wasn’t worth thinking about.

The hours passed quickly and yet seemed to crawl by. Everyone had a say in how this should be handled and whether or not someone needed to turn back to the Misty Mountains with word of what was happening. 

He allowed it because it gave him some peace to work with Balin and kept the rest of his noisy company from running riot throughout Bag End. He could only imagine how much worse his nephews would make matters while offering their sincere ‘help.’

What must Briar be thinking right now?

There came a soft knock on the door. Dwalin, who had leaned against it, shifted and pulled it open with a warning look to the assembled company. They all fell silent at once. He opened the door to a grim faced Oin.

“The lass’s mother wants to speak with you, your highness.”

Thorin thought of what his own mother would say had a she caught his sister in this same situation with a young Dwarf and wondered if he should re-don his armor before this meeting. He bit back a sigh and went to face his fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! What did you think? I hope to have another, longer chapter up within the next two days! xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Briar reach an understanding!

Belladonna left Briar in her bedroom after what was surely the most excruciating conversation they’d ever shared.

Briar sat on the edge of her bed, head spinning at this turn of events. At least her mother took her word that they hadn’t gone further than a kiss.

“Not that it matters, Rosie. Word will be out that you did much worse than share a simple kiss.” She warned with a sad smile.

Like she didn’t already know that.

Now her mother was off to speak to Thorin who was apparently the leader of this expedition to the Blue Mountains. They’d cut through the Shire tracking a pack of Warg Riders who’d fled one of the last Orc held outposts in the Misty Mountains.

Briar shuddered to think of what havoc those feral beast would have wreaked on her peaceful homeland had the dwarves not hunted them through the storm and summarily executed them.

Logically she knew they were stopping the Orcs from reaching the settlement at Ered Luin, but the result was the same and she was grateful.

Thorin, a military leader. She could easily imagine it. He was so strong and imposing and looked so dashing in his armor, even when wounded. Like a hero from one of the great legends of the big folk.

Her face heated in a blush at the memory of his kiss, like he was heading off to war or returning from battle into the arms of his love. “don’t get ahead of yourself, missy.” She mentally scolded herself and stood to ‘get cleaned up’ as her mother had suggested.

She headed to her wardrobe to pick out a nicer dress than the simple one she was wearing. After all, if Thorin was willing to adhere to Shire custom he’d be proposing before the day was out and she wanted to look her best for that.

After laying out a dress she headed to her vanity, grabbing a washcloth and some water from the small pitcher on her table. She froze in horror at the sight of her reflection. Hands trembling, she set the face towel down and brushed her fingers lightly over the red marks inflaming one side of her mouth and a few spots on her upper chest.

They were sensitive to touch and she suspected they had already faded some by the fact that some of the areas were a softer pink. She gasped at the lightest brush of her fingers over the delicate skin, trying to guess what it could be and why her mother hadn’t mentioned it.

It looked like an allergic reaction of all things, but surely she couldn’t be allergic to _dwarves?_

Then something her mother had said just before leaving came back to her. She’d stood and looked down at Briar, eyes full of warmth for her only child. “I suppose the beard will take some getting used to.”

Briar dropped her head to the vanity table with a thunk. To think she’d been walking around so marked in the hours since they’d been caught together. She never would have thought hair could cause a rash.

~~

Thorin, after taking the time to bathe in the rather luxurious chamber the Baggins set aside for such a task. Dressed in a fresh outfit from his pack, helpfully carried in by Fili after Thorin lost it on the side of the road.

He neatly re-braided his hair and would have pulled on his boots, but Belladonna had been horribly offended to find them all wearing them inside and he’d had the rest of them take theirs off and leave them in the ‘mud room’.

Whatever that was.

The only ones who didn’t gripe about it were Bombur and Gloin, both of whom assured him that he didn’t want to be on the bad side of his wife’s mother. Bombur had been insistent with a rather manic gleam in his eyes that put Thorin on edge.

He didn’t want to know what that was about. He had enough troubles of his own at the moment.

He took a moment to collect himself, as he did before any diplomatic meeting. Of course this was different than anything he’d ever done, but he wasn’t heir to the line of Durin for nothing. Surely he could manage a private meeting with ‘the lass he’d already sullied.’ He bit back a harsh retort at Dori’s words, even as the stronger dwarf stood between Thorin and Ori like he was on a spree to claim the virginity of everyone in sight.

For once he was willing to admit to being in the wrong so he allowed it. It was understandable that his troops and those they were escorting would lose faith in him after such a scene. He had to make things right or he’d lose the respect of his family and future subjects as well.

“You’ll do fine. You got her mother’s blessing. This should be the easy part.” Dwalin grasped him by the shoulder and squeezed, not bashing their heads together out of courtesy for his still healing wound.

Thorin nodded his thanks, ignoring the sniggering from his idiot sister-sons and the awkward silence emanating from the rest of his company. “I’ll return shortly.” He said to his brother in arms.

Dwalin bared his teeth in what Thorin hoped was meant to be a reassuring grin but could easily have been a threat to get-this-right-or-else.

“Good luck, Uncle.” Kili said cheerily, like he was heading out for a hunt or an exhibition sparring match. Of course, he would have been looking forwards to that.

~~

Briar looked up as Thorin stepped into the room behind her mother who sent her a small smile and headed to the far corner where she could see them, but not hear them well over the roar of the fire.

She blushed at the thought that they couldn’t even be trusted to be left alone for him to propose. Of course he did look astoundingly handsome in black trousers and a deep blue shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. She felt her breath catch at the warm light of desire in his eyes as he looked her over.

Perhaps it was better that they weren’t left alone. At least not until they’d reached an understanding.

“Master Oakenshield,” she stood smoothly, proud of how calm she sounded. Inside she was an absolute wreck.

“Mistress Baggins,” he inclined his head politely.

“Please sit,” he did, taking one of the chairs set in front of the fire for just this purpose. She sat opposite him with a small smile. “Would you care for some tea?” she offered somewhat stiffly, anxiety getting the better of her.

“Yes please.” He said, low voice sending shivers down her spine. Briar was very proud that her hands didn’t shake at all as she fixed him a cup with lemon and honey and set a slice of apple spice cake on a small plate for him.

He ate the cake with gratifying speed and vocal pleasure, but clearly only drank the tea out of obligation. Briar appreciated the effort. She ate two slices as well, but actually enjoyed her tea. It helped calm her nerves a bit.

After they were done she set their things aside and gave him an expectant look.

Finally, his time to speak. He had feared insulting her further through simply not understanding Hobbit courting practices so he’d decided to follow her lead. So far he thought it was going well.

“Thank you for the repast, Mistress Baggins. It was delicious.” He announced solemnly.

She smiled proudly and inclined her head, “Thank you. It’s an old family recipe.”

The beauty of her smile distracted him for a moment, wiping his mind clean of what he’d intended to say. She looked so lovely in a deep red gown that brought a sensual glow to her fair skin. Her shining hair was pulled back off her face by a matching ribbon and left to flow free down her back in soft waves.

He had no doubt that he was the luckiest dwarf in Arda to have such a One created just for him. She truly was a work of art.

“Master Oakenshield?” Briar asked, a worried frown creasing her brow. Her voice pulled him back into the moment.

Thorin startled, embarrassed and not knowing what to say, he went for the truth. “I’m sorry; I was distracted by your beauty.” Her eyes widened and she ducked her head to hide a smile, apparently that was the right thing to say.

He decided to continue on before he messed it up somehow. “I am sorry for the pain and embarrassment I caused you this morning. Such behavior is not typical of me or my kind. We love once and for life.”

Briar leaned forwards in her seat, his words drawing her in like a moth to flame. Her lips parted, her eyes shone like precious stones in the firelight.

He firmly reminded himself that her mother was in the room.

“I do not pretend to understand your customs, but we believe that our father, Mahal, crafts each dwarrow soul by hand. Sometimes he strikes them in two who will know each other when they meet. We call that having a One.”

She blinked in surprise. “And you think I’m your One?”

“I know you are. I feel it in my heart, I felt it the moment you smiled up at me this morning, though I didn’t recognize the feeling immediately.” He admitted softly, wanting to reach out and take her hand, but not sure if that was allowed.

“Oh.” She sat back with soft sound. What a romantic notion. And it would explain her inexplicable reaction to him. The other half of her soul.

He continued on. “Briar Baggins, I know we’ve just met and you may need time to accustom yourself to me and my…lifestyle. I have already asked your mother leave to court you, though she says things have gone beyond that by Hobbit standards.”

Briar nodded sadly. If he left without marrying her it would be the final nail in the coffin of her reputation. Even if he came back for her, or stayed to pay her court, the gossip would only grow with time. Spreading like a rot to infect her parents, close relatives, and any friends who still chose to associate with her.

“Then I will marry you, if you’ll have me, and we can get to know each other at our leisure once you have the protection of my name.” He concluded, rather proud of how well that had all come out.

Briar’s eyes filled with tears, though she couldn’t say if they were joyful or relieved. Perhaps a bit of both. She blinked and gave a sharp nod. “Yes. I will marry you. As soon as we are able,” she agreed, smiling through her tears.

Thorin was horrified at the sight, wondering what he’d done wrong to make her cry. But she had agreed so perhaps this was a positive reaction?

He sent her mother a desperate look for help only to find that she was rushing forward with bright eyes to pull her daughter into her arms and begin gently weeping herself.

That was no help. It was literally doubling the problem. 

He glanced around the room uncomfortably, wishing his mother or sister were here to help. Surely another female would know what to do or say in such a situation.

As it was, he sat stiffly and waited for them to be done, trying not to draw any undue attention to himself or somehow manage to make this worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having so much fun writing this! Thank you for reading and commenting! I love you all! More to come soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briar gets to know some of the company! Culture clashes ensue!

“Miss Baggins?” a soft, deep voice asked from the entryway to the stillroom. She was making a poultice of dried herbs to help thicken her father’s blood. Oin was adamant that they have several on hand for the next few days. Thankfully their storeroom was full to bursting or they’d be in a panic trying to make it through the snow to any neighbors who might have what they needed.

Of course that would be easier now that Thorin’s troupe of dwarrow had grown bored of forced inactivity and gone to dig out Bagshot row. She wondered if they wouldn’t have all of Hobbiton done before supper.

They certainly had the strength and stamina for it. She refused to let herself get distracted by the thought.

Briar looked up, expecting to see Bombur, the fat pleasant Dwarf who’d stayed behind to help her cook for her family and the company. It was nice to have the help, especially since she was pulling double duty as hostess and nurse.

There was another dwarf standing nervously in the doorway. He had reddish hair and wide brown eyes and a shy demeanor. She waited for a moment and let his name come to her. Ori. That was it.

“Yes, Ori? How can I help you?” she asked, turning back to her mortar and pestle.

“I wondered-that is. I’m a scribe in training and I came along to get some experience traveling. I mean that’s why I left the Blue Mountains in the first place and now I’m on my way back but this is the first time I’m experiencing a new culture first hand. I mean we’ve always dealt with men and even elves but hobbits are…well.”

She looked up at him fondly. He reminded her of her younger cousins in the best possible way. “Do you have any questions you need answered?” she asked kindly. It would do her some good to have a small distraction.

“Only if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not, please pull up a chair. I could use the company.” And the chance to find out more about the family and culture she was marrying into.

He hurried to do so, a bright grin etched across his face. He pulled out a small, well used notebook and pencil. The sight tugged her heartstrings. A dwarf after Bungo’s own heart. Yavanna willing they’d have the chance to meet when he woke from the long, medicated sleep Oin and Belladonna had agreed was the best course of action for his healing.

“What do you need to know?” she asked, getting started on one of the more difficult dried tubers the prescription called for.

“Well. Everything really.” He set the notebook down and Briar raised an eyebrow at the fully rendered sketch of her father’s study on one of the pages.

He shifted in his seat as he followed her line of sight. “Your mother said it was okay to take some sketches and ask you some questions if you felt up to it.”

“It is fine, and that’s a well done drawing.” She smiled to herself, knowing her mother was worried about her getting lost in her own mind and making herself sick with worry as she’d done many times before.

Ori looked deeply relieved to hear that. “I’ve made a few others of various rooms in the hole.”

“Smial,” she corrected.

“What?”

“Hobbit holes. We call them Smials.”

“Can you spell that for me?”

She did, biting back a laugh at how happy he looked to learn even that tidbit of information.

“Well. I guess to start, since we’re having a wedding soon. Maybe you could tell me about your courting and marriage customs? Unless they’re private? Then you could tell me about your eating habits or-”

This time Briar couldn’t hold in a small chuckle. “Well, they’re very connected so we’ll end up covering both. Hobbits value food, family, growing things, and comfort above all else. Our lives revolve around the seven meals we eat a day.”

“Seven?” he looked stumped. “Did you say seven?”

She frowned at his confusion. “Yes seven. First breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner, and supper.” She said slowly as he took down the names and approximate times of each meal.

They spent a pleasant while going over types and quantities of foods one would eat for each meal. Bombur, clearly having been eavesdropping, joined them at this point and eagerly poured over A Hobbit’s Hearth. The most popular cookbook/housekeeping guide in the Shire.

The most popular book overall she would daresay. Each new wife was given a copy by her mother on her wedding day.

She swallowed thickly at the thought that she’d be receiving her own copy soon.

“So this is your mother’s copy? Given to her by your grandmother?” Ori asked to clarify.

“Yes, and she can either pass her copy on to me or buy me a new one depending on how much help I need.”

She was met with matching looks of confusion from the dwarrow. “What help would you need, lass? You seem a good sort,” Bombur said comfortingly. She hadn’t been at all surprised to learn he was the father of quite a brood. He had that air about him.

“No, you see.” She took the book and turned it to her mother’s favorite recipe for chicken pot pie. The margins were marked with numerous notes to personalize the recipe. “Who better than your mother knows how well you can cook or make a tincture? She’d pass on her secrets or her mothers and so on. As needed. Of course I hope to receive a new copy. It’s something of a vote of confidence.” She explained.

Ori was scribbling so fast she wondered the page didn’t catch fire.

Bombur didn’t reply, reading the recipe like it held the secrets of the Valar. She went back to her work, enjoying the company. She let Ori start the conversation again when he was caught up on all she’d told him. Bombur seemed lost in the vital spices appendices so she let him be.

“So, your husband would build you your own smial?” she heard the unasked question would Thorin be expected to do the same?

“Oh no, not necessarily. We very often live in multi generational families in a good sized smial like this one. Besides, they can always be expanded if necessary.”

“No shortage of hills around here,” Ori said absently.

“That’s why we call it hill country,” she laughed at the look of wonder that crossed his face at her words. Everything she said was a revelation to him. Oh how he’d love to spend a few hours with her father.

The thought sobered her instantly. Oin had assured them that each day that passed improved her father’s chances of recovery. The fact that he’d made it through the first night was a great sign, but she couldn’t help but worry.

“Miss Baggins?” Bombur asked a sympathetic look on his face.

She shook off her dark thoughts and began separating the mixture she’d made into poultices. Deciding to change the subject before she brought the pleasant mood all the way down. She said, “I was…nearly being courted before all this.” She gestured loosely to encompass the situation they found themselves in.

“You _what?!_ ” Ori demanded, horrified.

“Did Thorin know that?” Bombur asked, appalled.

“No, he did not.” They all looked up at Thorin’s words. He stood in the doorway looking grim as death  come to call. Clearly she’d said the wrong thing.

Bombur turned a deep shade of red at the sight of him and said something in their guttural language that had Ori shrinking in his seat and Thorin looking ever more enraged with each word the other spoke.

Briar tried to catch Thorin’s eye but he was deliberately ignoring her. She turned to Ori who shook his head with wide eyes when she opened her mouth to speak. She sat back with a frown, hating being left out of what was clearly a conversation about her.

“In the Shire it’s considered rude to speak a language that not everyone understands,” she said in a clipped tone.

Both dwarrow had the nerve to look chagrinned. “I apologize Miss Baggins.” Bombur said soberly.

“Yes, forgive me my lady,” Thorin ground out like he was unaccustomed to the words and resented being made to say them. She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

He was lucky he looked as good as he did; his personality left something to be desired when he was out of his element.

“What were you saying?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

Ori cut in quietly, “It’s not done to court a lady who is already being paid court. Its- a bad offense to the other male and his family. A sign of deep disrespect.”

Briar gave them all blank looks at that because what were they even on about?

“Your-former courter,” Thorin spat like it was a curse. “Would have the right and responsibility to challenge me to an honor duel. Even if he lost he would at least have retained his respectability as a dwarf.”

They seemed to be waiting for her to make some response to that. “Ah. Well, we don’t do that here. Courting is just courting until an offer is made and accepted. It can be a bit awkward when two lads or lass’s have their eye on the same hobbit but that’s rare and easily settled.”

“How?” Ori asked eagerly, like she was going to start going on about honor duels and other such foolishness.

“They talk about it and the one they both want chooses who they want to court.” She said flatly.

“Oh,” he deflated somewhat at that before shrugging and going back to writing in his book.

She sighed, feeling a headache coming on.

“Well. It’s almost time for lunch,” Bombur said with forced cheer. He turned to Thorin, “Is everyone back?”

“Mostly, or on their way.” he said shortly. “Let’s eat.”

Briar pursed her lips. It was shaping up to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! What did you think? Anything in particular you want to see? More to come soon! xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Briar have a long talk and get some important information about each other!

Lunch was shaping up to be an ordeal before Belladonna saved the day by offering the newly engaged couple the chance for a moment alone.

Thorin was sick to death of the barbed words and judgment being sent his way by his own dwarrow so he gladly accepted the offer. Briar was a still miffed with him, but even that wasn’t enough for her to decline the chance for some time together.

Belladonna set them up with plates in the small seating area in the master bedroom. “Your father can be your chaperone. I trust you to keep an eye on him and your hands off each other,” she told Briar firmly as they were plating up dishes in the kitchen.

“Of course mama,” Briar blushed at the very thought of stealing a kiss while her father slept nearby unawares.

But Belladonna shushed her with a quirk of her full lips, “I know how young love is, dear. I never expected to be hiding behind my mother’s hydrangea bushes during a garden party, naked as the day I was born but…” she shrugged matter of factly.

That was more than Briar had ever wanted to know about her parent’s private relationship. At least she knew she hadn’t been conceived behind said bushes. “I promise mama, we’ll behave.”

“Of course you will my dear, and I’ll find out a bit more about our guests.” Her eyes gleamed eagerly at the prospect of a houseful of new acquaintances and all the gossip that came with.

~~

So here they were, eating pork pasties courtesy of Bombur. The silence between them was strained and Thorin had no idea how to break it without upsetting her further.

“So, you’re the leader of this company,” she spoke up softly, halfway through her third pasty.

“Yes. This is a small force, but they are loyal and brave.”

“Do you usually command more dwarves?”

Thorin stopped eating and looked at her askance. That was an odd question. Surely he had properly introduced himself at some point? Unfortunately he was drawing a blank on actually doing any such thing. “Yes. All the military forces of Moira and Ered Luin are at my command.” He left out that he could always call for more warriors from his kin in the Iron Hills.

No need to overwhelm the lass.

Briar’s eyes widened at his words, “All of them? You must be a great warrior to have achieved so much at your age.” Sure he had some gray in his hair, but that could be birthmarks or stress induced. His face was nearly as unlined as her own.

“Thank you, I like to think I am. My prowess in battle is how I earned my honorific, Oakenshield.”

“Oakenshield isn’t your surname?” She asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

Thorin’s heart sank at her question. Now everything would change. “No, it’s my battle name. My surname is Durin.”

Briar paused mid sip of her cider. She lowered her cup slowly and looked him over like she could uncover all his secrets with just the strength of her gaze. “Durin? Like the royal line?”

“Yes.” Exaclty, he didn’t say.

“Your name is Thorin Durin and you’re the leader of all the dwarrow military forces in the west?” she reiterated numbly.

“Yes. I am. I’m sorry, I thought you knew,” he added lamely.

“Knew that you’re related to King Thrain? How would I have known that?”

He wondered how she knew his father’s name. Hobbits weren’t known for caring about the politics of the other peoples. But now wasn’t the moment to ask. “I’m used to people knowing who I am. Our family has a look.”

She clenched her teeth and took a deep breath. “Like the young dwarf traveling with you? Kili? Is he your kin?” she asked sharply.

Thorin was taken aback by her sharp tone. “Yes, he and Fili, his elder brother, are my sister sons.” For some reason his words took some of the tension out of her shoulders.

“Your nephews.” She sighed and ran a hand over her face. “And how are you all related to King Thrain?”

Thorin swallowed thickly, “I am his first born son and crown prince of Moria and Ered Luin as well as our lost kingdom, Erebor.”

Briar’s mouth dropped open in utter shock. “I’m marrying the crown prince of three Dwarrow kingdoms?” she asked, horrified.

“Yes. If you still wish to, it was never my intention to deceive you.”

She felt light headed at his words. No wonder he always seemed so majestic, so much larger than life, even in the two days since he’d arrived on her doorstep.

“Sweet Briar, please answer me,” he asked softly and when she looked up he was kneeling in front of her, holding one of her hands between both of his.

 She must have gotten lost in her mind for a moment. “Rose,” she corrected automatically.

“What?”

“My name, its Briar Rose, not Sweet Briar, though both names refer to the same plant.”

Thorin blinked at that information, simply relieved that she’d finally responded after several minutes of blank staring.

She chuckled softly and leaned back in her seat, pressing her free hand to her eyes. “It seems we promised our lives to each other before even properly introducing ourselves.”

Thorin smiled, able to see the humor in that. He was also relieved that she didn’t seem to be backing out of their betrothal as was her right and no longer an option for him, regardless of what he might discover about her.

“So, why are you called Oakenshield?” She asked wearily, needing time to work through all she’d learned about her husband to be without being forced to carry the conversation with the taciturn male.

Thorin as well accustomed to telling the story and went into it after a brief pause. It was never easy to tell, no matter how much time passed. “I earned the name in the Battle of Azanulbizar where we reclaimed Moria. I was disarmed and swarmed with Orc when I saw my grandfather decapitated by a great White Orc. Their leader.”

Briar leaned forward, eager to hear more of his story. Horrified by what he must have witnessed that gruesome day.

“I took up his sword and grasped the branch of an oak tree as a shield.” He stopped there, having explained his name and answered her question.

Briar blinked at him, eyes wide. He couldn't just leave the story there! “And? Then what did you do?”

He was surprised to see her interest in the bloody matter. Hobbits were known as peaceful folk that eschewed violence at all costs.

He continued, “seeing him fall threw me into a berserker rage and Dwalin and I slew the surrounding Orc. I made it to the White Orc who I now know was called Azog. He wielded a massive mace and struck me with it. Without my oaken shield I would not have been standing here with you today.

“I managed to remove his arm with my grandfathers sword. Azog was enormous. The size of a large man and he grasped me by my throat with his remaining arm and lifted me over his head, blood pouring from his stump of a limb. His hand wrapped nearly all around my throat.

He pulled me to him and roared in my face.” He left out the rank stench of rotting meat and death and the crippling fear that took the very heart of him. “On instinct I grabbed my hip dagger and drove it into his eye killing him instantly.

Seeing their leader fall turned the battle immediately as the courage of the Orc failed. My father rallied the troops and led our army to victory. We’ve spent the last decades fighting lesser battles and skirmishes reclaiming the better part of the mountain range.

For the most part we’ve routed them all. The remainders have fled to the Gray Mountains in the east but we do still find pockets of dissent. The Misty Mountains are huge and hard to maintain, but well worth the effort to give our people a home.” He concluded.

“My goodness Thorin, you truly are a hero.” She said softly, eyes bright with pride. “You’ve definitely earned your name.” She paused for a moment, counting back in her head and not liking what she found. “We heard of the battle even here in the Shire. There were Orc raids across Arda for years after...but for you to have fought at Azanulbizar you must be…”

“I am 197,” he answered her unasked question. “I was 52 at the time of the battle.”

 “I-you’re _what?_ How…when do dwarrow come of age?” she demanded, trying not to panic.

He stilled at her distress, wondering what had her so riled. “70.”

“Are you telling me all the dwarrow with you are _at least 70?!”_

“Yes, they are, they would never be allowed to leave the safety of the mountains were it otherwise.” Her reaction to his age brought back his fear from that first morning. “Briar, when do hobbits come of age?”

She looked faintly sick as she said, “33.” She couldn’t believe he was her parents age! It was appalling.

He looked pale and shaky, “and… how old are you?” he asked, hoping she was at least 100.

“36,” she whispered, flinching when he leapt to his feet and began pacing, taking the floor in huge strides.

“By Mahal, you’re a child!” he sneered, disgusted with himself and angry with her. They couldn’t marry now! She was decades too young to be courted much less bedded.

She flinched at that, offended. “I’m an adult hobbit! We just age differently!”

“How differently?” he stopped, looming over her seat and glaring down at her.

She grit her teeth and gripped the arms of her chair tightly. “You’re my parent’s age, you tell me!” her words turned his stomach.

“I have about three centuries of life left according to averages,” he grit out through clenched teeth.

“Me too,” she glared up at him, hating large he was comparatively. He was even taller than most of the fellows in his company. She was irrationally irritated by that fact.

He was relieved to hear that. He had feared she would only live as fleetingly as a human. Not that it mattered now; surely she would call off the engagement in revulsion.

“I’m an adult, Thorin. We simply age differently. If it hadn’t been you I’d still have been married before the end of the year.” She stood to face him; lips pressed lightly together, hands fisted at her sides.

“Married to your former courter?” he sneered, feeling useless jealousy stir low in his gut. He hated the thought of a small, fat, hobbit kissing and caressing her. Taking her to wife. It made him want to kill something.

She rolled her eyes at him, clearly hearing it in his tone. “Yes in all probability. But that’s done now, and it’s not like I was ever in love with him.”

That made no sense. “If he’s not your One and you aren’t in love then why would you marry him?” he asked as he stepped closer to her, unable to resist the ever present pull between them.

“Oh the usual reasons. Companionship, fauntlings, family ties, spring season,” she explained softly, head tipped back to meet his eyes. She let him come close to her, far too close for propriety. Her nearness made his head spin.

Most of those made sense, even dwarrow married to carry on family lines or for companionship or treaties, though such cases were rare and every attempt was made to ensure that neither spouse had a One somewhere out there waiting to tear their marriage bonds apart like so much paper.

He said as much and she gave a small smile, “We hobbits don’t have to worry about that last bit, so it does make things easier.” Of course, if having a One meant the instant connection she’d experienced with Thorin it was no wonder lives had been torn apart by it. Even now she felt it pulsing between them more intense than ever, heightened by their anger towards one another.

“What did you mean by Spring Season?” he asked, voice deeper than she’d ever heard it. He leaned in, letting his warm breath brush over the pointed tip of her ear sending a shiver down her spine.

Briar felt herself blush at the impertinent question. Surely dwarrow had a season? All creatures did. Or so she’d thought. “Spring season. When we have the urge to…make faunts,” she gestured vaguely with her hands.

Thorin’s eyebrows shot sky high at her words as he stepped back in surprise. “You feel this urge every Spring?”

“Yes. Starting in our tweens and growing stronger as we reach maturity,” she was sure she looked sunburned with how hard she was blushing. It was beyond improper to discuss Spring season with a male!

“So you’ve had a fair few then?” he all but growled, eyes filled with hunger. Imagining her consumed by that most primal need with no way to slake it. Until now.

“Yes, she whispered breathily, feeling a low throb set up between her legs. “The last three have been…difficult. It strikes lass’s harder you see.”

“I see.” And he truly did. It also explained why they married so young even with decent life spans. That said he couldn’t accept a female her age as an appropriate mate. He took a deep breath, pulling her sweet scent deep into his being.

“Briar. To my people you’re but a child.” He stepped back, finally managing to put some space between them. “Our relationship will be seen as unnatural and inappropriate at best.”

“Well, to my people you’re about to enter your last century of life,” she sniped tartly. “In all cases you’d be considered far too old for me.”

He flinched at that and immediately felt defensive, “We still have the same amount if time left if we die naturally!”

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked, full of false sweetness.

He grimaced at her barbed words. She was clever, he’d give her that. “The problem is that I’m a leader of my people and am held to a certain standard of behavior.” He said grimly. “Our marriage will put a stain on my honor and that of my family.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “A stain?” she asked voice tight.

“Not to me!” he hurried to correct. “In spite of myself I’m still drawn to you. I shouldn’t be.” He finished bitterly, entirely disgusted with himself.

“In _spite_ of yourself?”

“Of course, how would you feel if you felt this way about an…an eighteen year old?” he snapped. She flinched at the implication, seeing where he was coming from. Something came to mind. “That’s a normal age for humans to marry. At least in Bree.” She said. “Can’t you accept that different races do things differently?”

Thorin sighed, “They only live for one century at best. And taking a human as a mate is deeply frowned upon for that very reason. Any such couple would have to live in a human settlement.”

She sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Then we could live here. In the Shire. I mean, we haven’t discussed it, but-”

“That isn’t possible, Briar. Not with my responsibilities,” he said firmly.

She had forgotten about those, she was quiet for a long moment. “Alright. Let’s take some time and think on this. I have some errands to run tomorrow, if you accompany me, we can talk more then.”

He nodded stiffly, “That is agreeable to me.”

“Good can you sit with him while I take these up? I’ll send someone to relieve you shortly.” She said as she collected their dishes and headed for the door and what he was sure would be a long talk with her mother.

“Of course,” he agreed as she left the room. He began pacing once more after checking that her father was still resting comfortably.

How was he going to explain this mess? Why did his One have to be so very young? Why did she have to be so perfect that he couldn’t imagine a future without her by his side, even after all this? He knew he didn’t have the strength of will to marry her then leave her to suffer through 34 more springs alone just to suit the mores of his people. He wasn’t cruel enough for that.

He scrubbed a hand across his face and tried to think of something other than the warm feel of her in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of drama! More culture coming up soon! And more alone time for our favorite couple! What did you think? Do you have any questions? Let me know! xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin helps Briar run errands! More conversations are had! The wedding approaches!!

Balin stared at him unblinking, mouth slightly agape. He appeared frozen in time.

“Balin?” Thorin finally asked, hoping the older dwarf wasn’t having some kind of seizure.

“She’s how old you say?”

“She reached her maturity three years ago and is now 36,” he repeated in a clipped tone.

“I never would have guessed that. Oh. There is no way the whole explanation will be passed as gossip. It will just be filed down to her age,” he said with a frown.

Thorin well knew that, at the moment it was his main concern.

Balin sighed deeply and stroked his beard contemplatively. “Since you can’t back out of the betrothal at this stage, have you considered convincing her to break it off?”

He felt like he’d been hit in the sternum and had the air knocked out of him. “No! I spoke imprudently but I couldn’t leave her behind anymore than I could cut off my own head.”

“Thorin, sometimes loving someone can mean doing what’d best for them even when it hurts you.” Balin said sternly.

“She’s my One! How can you even suggest such a thing?” he demanded, aghast.

“Just think of what she’ll be giving up to come to the mountains with you? Her family, her friends, her _people_. And she won’t receive a warm welcome. She wouldn’t have even before Erebor fell, but now…”

Thorin well knew how closed off his people were after their rejection from the outside world. It was easy for him to speak to men and even elves since their exile and his position as his father’s main ambassador, but most dwarrow had no such experience.

Even he had very few positive experiences with other races. Still, the thought of Briar being treated poorly by anyone had his hackles up. “She is my love, Balin. I will be her family. I will be her friend. The boys already like her as do Ori and Bombur. I won’t take her from her kin forever. I can’t believe our Father made us for each other only to put insurmountable odds in our way!”

Balin gave him a proud smile, “That’s what I wanted to hear. You’re going to hear that and worse when you bring her back to Ered Luin. Much less when you introduce her to your parents. Your relationship needs to be as strong as an iron bar or it will bend and break under the pressure you’ll face.”

Thorin blinked at his advisors rapid turnaround, his words were unexpected, but likely true.

The older dwarf continued cheerily. “Also, I have what may be a solution to her age problem.”

“I won’t wait to marry her. There are…other concerns,” Thorin said evasively. Not wanting to put the word out about her season of need. She had been embarrassed to tell him about it and he’d be the one seeing her through. He could only imagine how upset she’d be if the boys caught wind of it and asked her inappropriate questions.

“Just tell everyone she’s of age and reached her majority three years ago. She’ll still seem very young but her being your One should override that. It make for a rather romantic tale when you think of it. Besides, she is very mature. I’m sure she’ll conduct herself nicely.”

Thorin felt a slow smile spread across his face, “that…just might work.”

~~

He rose the next morning to the smell of bacon and sausage filling the hole- _Smial_ according to an information besotted Ori.

He rose and washed his face, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Sleep hadn’t come easy since the day he woke with Briar in his arms. His rest had been disturbed by dreams of heat and friction and the sweet press of her body.

Normally such dreams occurred every few weeks and he was easily able to see to his physical needs by taking himself in hand before he was even fully awake. But since finding her, holding her, kissing her, he woke several times in the night, flesh heated and aching in a way he’d never felt before.

His desire grew so hot he woke before finding release and then felt awkward about taking himself in hand while fully awake and aware. Of course if things continued this way, he would need to get over his nerves or be driven mad by the near constant sexual fantasies about his future bride.

He dressed warmly and brushed and braided his hair before putting his worries out of his mind and heading to the kitchen to see Briar. He caught his breath at the sight of her. She was turned away from him, wearing a thick woolen gown of forest green. Her hair was pulled back into two neat but plain braids that trailed down her back, bound with matching ribbons. She turned to face him, kettle in hand. Soft curls had escaped her braids to frame her face which was flushed from working over the open hearth.

She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

She gave him a wary smile as she set the kettle down, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he said gruffly, unable to keep himself from moving towards her. “Can I help?”

She cocked her head to one side curiously, “ _Can_ you? What does a prince know of cooking?”

He felt a silly grin flit across his lips at the signs that she was no longer angry with him. “Precious little. But I know enough to get by.”

She giggled and swayed towards him, “Bachelor food?”

“Worse, road rations.”

She laughed out loud at that, a bright sound that warmed his heart. “I can only imagine. But no thank you, Bombur and I are finishing up and then we can head out. We have a long day ahead. Please, have a seat.”

He did, unable to tear his eyes away from her as she loaded the table down with hot food and drinks. Her eyes darted to him every few moments, a light blush cresting her round cheeks. It was nice.

Bombur came into the room carrying armfuls of sausage. “Good morning sir,” he said warmly, beginning what looked like a whole second fry up.

“Good morning,” Thorin nodded trying not to seem too distracted by Briar taking a seat next to him and loading up a plate for herself. She raised an eyebrow at him, “Eat! You’re lucky you woke up before the rest! You all eat like hobbits!” she said fondly, sliding a plate of scones his way and pouring two cups of tea.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said lowly having noticed her reaction to his voice the day before. She didn’t disappoint, her pupils dilated at his words, ears twitching slightly. She bit her lower lip and dropped her gaze, “you should.” She whispered coyly, letting her touch linger as she passed him a cuppa.

The urge to kiss her nearly overwhelmed him and he felt some pride in her obvious struggle as well.

The clatter of the rest of his company rising and heading their way broke the spell and they turned to their meals. He linked their hands beneath the table. She didn’t pull away.

~~

An hour later saw them navigating the narrow paths of Hobbiton in a borrowed pony drawn cart. The back was filled with baskets she’d spent the pre-dawn hours packing. It was strange to be running her usual errands without her mother. With her fiancée next to her and his nephews trailing them on foot as outriders, though she suspected he wanted to keep an eye on them and get rid of some of their excess energy at the same time.

 Of course the real issue was half of Hobbiton openly staring as they drove by and the other half watching from behind their curtains.

Fortunately, Thorin seemed too preoccupied with driving and navigating the icy streets to notice the extra attention.

For her part, Briar was… nervous. Knowing that Thorin was so much older than she and a certified war hero was overwhelming. And incredibly attractive. She had always preferred older males-not _that_ much older. After all Sancho was fifty. Older and well established but still well within an appropriate age range.

Though most of her tween crushes _had_ been on her father’s friends…the fathers of the boys she’d been kissing. She’d always avoided thinking of it in those terms.

“Briar,” she startled at his voice, having been lost in her thoughts. She hoped he hadn’t gotten them lost in the mean time.

“Yes?”

“Did you think about what we discussed?” he asked stiffly, voice carrying in the still air.

“Yes of course. I spoke with my mother, she thinks traveling outside the Shire would be good for me,” she replied softly.

“So you’ll travel with me to Ered Luin?” she was surprised by how relieved he sounded. It was nice to think he regretted his words from the day before.

“Yes. My responsibilities can easily be handled by someone else. I doubt the same is true for yours.”

“No, mine can’t be handed off, not long term at any rate.”

That still didn’t address the real issue between them. She decided to broach it head on “Have _you_ thought about it? Do you still want to marry me?”

His lips thinned in a frown. “I am honor bound to marry you. I could not back out of our agreement and maintain my honor.”

She tensed at his words, not wanting to trap him into marriage, but also as unwilling to live the rest of her life in disgrace here in the Shire. Perhaps he could marry her and leave her with his name? Or she could always move back to Rivendell. Perhaps they had herbs that could help her with Spring.

He continued after a brief pause. “That said I do want you with me as my wife. I hope you will not call off our marriage. I was caught off guard yesterday. I was a fool to think I could walk away from this.”

She sighed, relieved to hear that but still concerned about his outburst the previous day, “Will my age truly be an issue for you and your family?”

He quirked a small smile, “Balin had an idea about that...”           

She had to admit, the solution had merit.

~~

Thorin was surprised to find that her errands consisted of delivering care packages to numerous families that were apparently her nearest tenants.

“We have stewards for our other properties around the Shire; though Papa does visit a few times a year to make sure everything is running smoothly,” she explained absently as he and his nephews loaded the cart in the order she instructed. He kept his eyes on the boys to make sure they didn’t take any ‘samples’ from the baskets.

Kili gasped in mock horror, “We would never!”

“You have us mistaken for a pair of unscrupulous rogues,” Fili swore wide eyed.

Thorin choked back a laugh at the unimpressed look Briar gave the pair. It would be nice to have someone else on his side with the pair of them running wild. he had to admit, she was far more mature than both of them combined.

It had been hours and he was ready to return to Bag End. Or just grab Briar and head for the Blue Mountains and leave this insanity behind.

They had been to ten smials and he’d been gawked at, interrogated by ‘concerned friends’, hidden from, or some combination of them all at each home. Briar assured him this was normal behavior for Hobbits with outsiders.

And he thought dwarrow were bad.

Thankfully his nephews had grown bored and started a snow ball fight that had drawn in most of the faunts and tweens, distracting them from what he assumed were dares to run up and touch his coat or scabbard before darting away in a cloud of shrieks and giggles.

He was horrified by how easy it was for them to sneak up on him. He wondered if any Hobbits would be interested in training as spies in his service.

Thorin’s only joy in this so far came from how Briar cuddled up to him in the driver’s seat, both arms wrapped around one of his. Her blush as he lifted her out of the seat at their first stop wiped his mind of all coherent thought for several moments. Their wedding couldn’t come soon enough.

By late afternoon he had held seven infants and more toddlers than he cared to keep track of. That had been the best part; he rarely came into contact with children. Less than fifty had been born to their people since they settled in Ered Luin eighty years before. And now he was marrying a lass who likely couldn’t bear dwarrow young. He sighed at the thought but tried not to let it get him down. Their father wouldn’t have created her for him without reason.

That said, he didn’t know the reason for this insufferable day. He had been fed the best the mistress of each smial had to offer. He finished his plates even after he was long past uncomfortably full. He had to. They all watched him until every last crumb was gone then offered seconds. Some were openly offended when he respectfully declined.

He had no idea where Briar was putting it all or how she kept up polite conversation about each of their families without notes to help her along. She must have a mind like a steel trap, that would come in handy at court.

She had taken the opportunity to spread a highly stylized version of their love story to everyone. He rather suspected his company would be besieged by starry eyed hobbit lasses hoping to meet their One in a dramatic scenario like she described.

He wondered how long it would take them to make it to the border, just the two of them on a pony. The company could catch up in a few days.

“Alright, we’re done. We can head home for supper,” Briar finally decreed after their sixteenth stop. She was unreasonably flushed as she had been at the end of each visit when she and the lady of the house spoke alone while Thorin was left to make awkward small talk with alternately openly hostile or frightened hobbits.

“What are they saying to set you blushing?” he finally asked as he called for the boys to wrap it up. The assorted snow warriors groaned and accused him of ruining their fun. He had never been treated so disrespectfully by such a large gathering.

Briar laughed, presumably at the face he was pulling. “Most of them don’t believe you’re a prince. The rest don’t know how to act around one anyway.”

He huffed, unable to decide between being amused or offended.

“As for the ladies, they’ve been giving me…marriage advice,” she concluded quickly, blush returning full force.

Thorin had some idea what kind of advice she meant. At least none of the hobbits he’d been forced into conversation with had attempted the same with him. He had nearly been driven mad as it was, that surely would have been the last straw for his sanity.

He prudently decided to change the subject, “And has your reputation been salvaged?” he hoped this hadn’t all been for naught. Though he didn’t understand why they were allowed out alone with only his idiot sister sons as chaperones, but he wasn’t one to question the cultural norms of these odd little people.

“We’re officially betrothed, we’re as good as married at this point. Besides, we’ve been in public all day,” she explained sweetly.

He liked that rule; it had given them time alone without the presence of an overbearing chaperone. He wondered how it would go over in the mountains. Probably with lots of bloodshed he decided after a moment. He looked down at his future bride, glad it hadn't come to that with her kin. At least not yet after all, they did still have a wedding to get through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I had a hard time writing this one for some reason! I hope you liked it!! Wedding coming up soon!! Any questions, comments, or concerns? Please let me know! Thanks for reading! xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briar explains a bit more about life in the Shire! Thorin and Briar sneak away for a romantic interlude!

It was just after elevensies-which most of the dwarrow eschewed though Bombur and the younger boys loved it.

Briar was teaching the rotund cook to make rosemary and lemon melts for afternoon tea. He was fascinated by the strict cooking schedule she kept to in order to keep up with the sheer number of meals and occupants the smial held.

“So these are a kind of savory biscuit?” he wondered aloud.

“Oh yes, anything can be sweet or savory. At least in the Shire. The best cooks come up with their own twist on favorite recipes and those become family secrets,” she explained cheeks rosy from her efforts over the hearth.

Bombur watched her with warm eyes, fondly reminded of his eldest daughter. “You look happy, lass.”

She smiled, “Oh I’m happiest in the kitchen. Cooking, baking, trying new recipes. When I was a faunt I dreamed of traveling to the great kingdoms and learning all their secrets. Every bread, cake, and fowl. All the spices of middle earth mine to command.” She smiled at the memory. “I thought I’d come back and write my own book. Better even than A Hobbits Hearth.”

“That’s a noble dream, lass. You’re a fine cook,” he said encouragingly.

She blushed prettily at his words. “Thank you Bombur. I only wish it was safe to travel outside the Shire. As you can see, it’s not always safe within our borders, even with the rangers on patrol.” Her smile vanished, mind ever drawn back to the attack and her father’s condition.

“Rangers?” he asked, confused.

“Yes, the Dunedain Rangers patrol our borders. They patrol all of Arda actually of which the Shire is a large part.”

Bombur was even more baffled by this news. He paused a moment as they rolled out the biscuit dough to the right size. “I thought Hobbits had their own leader?”

She shrugged, “My grandfather is the Thain, but he’s really just the steward for the King of Arda. And Buckland is basically its own county, my uncle rules it as master but again, he’s no king.”

“But they’re the closest you all have?”

“I suppose so, why?” she asked, wondering at all his questions. If Bombur was this fascinated, she’d have to go over all this with Ori. He’d surely want to take notes.

“Just curious, lass,” he said warmly as they went back to preparing tea. Privately he was relieved that she was so well connected in among her own kind. It would be far easier for her to learn the ways of court than it would be for a less wealthy lass.

Briar paused, feeling a prickle on the back of her neck. She looked up to find Thorin standing in the entry way to the kitchen watching her with an inscrutable expression. She wondered how much he’d heard.

As ever, his presence sent her pulse racing and for a moment they were the only two people in the world.

Bombur finished setting the biscuits on the baking pan and quietly excused himself to go check on his cousin who had taken to finding quiet corners of the smial to carve in. The couple barely noticed him leaving.

“Did you need anything?” Briar asked quickly after realizing she’d been staring at her intended without a word.

He frowned slightly, not knowing how to say he’d missed her without sounding pathetic. “Nothing in particular.”

“Ah. Just wanted to learn to make biscuits then?” she teased.

He quirked his thin lips in a smile, “I fear I’d shame your fine table with my poor attempts at cooking.”

“I suppose I’ll have enough of it on the road?”

Thorin chuckled at that, “I doubt it. I only really cook for myself or Dwalin, Balin, or Gloin if they’re traveling with me. We’re willing to eat anything to get by.” He concluded darkly.

She didn’t know what to make of that, “Why only you all?”

“We’re survivors of Erebor and the Wandering Times. Hardship has changed us.”

“Erebor? You called it your lost kingdom,” she recalled.

“Yes. It was taken by Dragon Fire when I was but 26. I still recall it like it was yesterday.”

“A dragon? You faced a dragon?” she was awed by the very notion.

“There is no _facing_ a dragon. I was lucky enough to be on a hunt when Smaug came. All I could do was watch as our Kingdom was consumed.”

Briar couldn’t imagine how helpless he must have felt. Then the Wandering Times as he called them, and to see his grandfather killed in front of him in battle just a few years later could only have added to the nightmare. “Thorin…” she faded out, not knowing what to say.

He looked up at her, blue eyes sharp as glass. “We won’t have to worry about that in Ered Luin. I’ve made sure of it. You’ll be safe,” he swore, gently grasping her upper arm and pulling her close.

They were so close she felt the vibration of his voice roll through her. “I know. I trust you,” she whispered, trembling in his grasp. He saw the truth of her words in her eyes and silently vowed to live up to the faith she put in him.

A sudden burst of laughter from the next room caused them to startle but not break apart. She gave him a searching look, unwilling to wait a moment longer to be in his arms again. “Come with me?” she tilted her head coyly, noting how his eyes widened when he caught her meaning.

For a moment she feared he would pull away but instead he twined their fingers, “lead the way.”

~~

Thorin didn’t know what to expect from her untoward request and he didn’t care. He was desperate to taste her again. Besides, they were already compromised; this couldn’t hurt their situation at all.

She led him through the kitchen and down an empty hallway into what turned out to be another pantry, this one as yet undisturbed. She lit a small lantern and set in on the worktable. He stood in the doorway watching her; uncertain of what she had planned.

She turned back to him and pulled him inside, shutting the door quietly. He wondered if she truly needed the light to see in the semi darkness of the storeroom, he could see perfectly well without it. Now wasn’t the time to ask.

The silence of the room swelled between them with emotions left unsaid. She was stunning in the flickering light, shadows lighting the peaks and valleys of her perfect figure.

“Briar-” he began huskily, surprised by the register of his own voice.

“Kiss me?” she breathed, reaching up on tip-toe to wrap her arms wound his neck. He dipped his head down and slanted his mouth across hers, drinking in her sweet sighs, cherishing the taste of her plump lips. They pressed together for long moments in a mostly chaste embrace. Then the mood shifted and Thorin pulled back slightly to run his tongue along the now swollen flesh of her bottom lip. That eternal pout that had been driving him mad in the long days since they’d met.

He groaned low in his throat pulling an answering whimper from her sweet mouth. Briar tangled her hands in his thick hair and dropped to her heels, pulling him down to kiss her. He gasped in surprise and she let go and tried to step back, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

He silenced her with another kiss, this time delving into her open mouth and plundering her senses. He wrapped his hands around her slender waist and lifted her easily, swallowing her aroused gasp as he kept their mouths locked.

He perched her on the edge of the worktable and stepped between her spread thighs. This put them more on level though he still loomed over her by several inches. “Thorin,” she begged hotly into his ear sending his arousal skyrocketing.

Her pupils were blown wide as she gazed up at him, lips swollen, breath coming in short gasps. The urge to claim her fully was near overwhelming. Clearly she was of the same mind as she ran a hand up his tunic, feeling his pectoral muscles flex under her questing fingers.

Feeling bold he copied her, bracing one hand on the table by her hip, he trailed his fingers down her pale throat and over her collar bone. Her breath hitched and he paused until she said. “Please,” and arched her back, pushing her full breasts towards him in invitation.

They both groaned at the initial contact of his callused fingers with her satiny soft skin of the scant inch of cleavage her dress showed. A deep flush crept up her high cheekbones and her breath came in shallow gasps. Her intense reaction driving him, he cupped her over her dress, spanning as much of her breast as possible though even with spread fingers it was slightly too large for his hand.

That very fact had him throbbing in his trews and he ached to see them unbound. He wondered how she would react to his touch to her bare flesh.

He hooked his hands under her knees and pulled her to the edge of the table in one swift motion and ground his arousal against her core causing them to cry out in tandem at the pleasure. It was so good but not nearly enough.

Thorin lifted her skirt so that only his trousers and their underwear stood between the sweet friction building between them. Briar wrapped her legs around him, moving with him and setting the table creaking.

With just another few thrusts of his hips she pressed up into him with a low cry, clenching her soft thighs around his hips and rolling her hips against him, face pressed into his neck, hands clenched into the fabric of his shirt as she rode out the most intense peak of her life.

Thorin held her through it, overwhelmingly proud to have brought her pleasure in spite of his inexperience.

Briar had never gone anywhere near so far with anyone else but she knew enough to tell he hadn’t found the same release she had. The near total darkness and the aftermath of her pleasure soothed her inherent shyness. She pressed her hand to the front placket of his trousers, feeling the pulse that ran through him at her touch.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “No, let me,” he murmured, not wanting their first time to be on a workroom table and unable to trust his self control if she touched his heated flesh with her small, soft hand.

Thorin freed himself from his trousers and took himself in hand, pressed his face into her sweet smelling hair and quickly stroked himself to completion with shuddering groan.

Briar curled into his embrace and pulled him down to drink more kisses from his mouth. She never wanted to stop, wasn’t sure she could. She wondered if Spring had arrived early or if this was part of the bond he spoke of. Or maybe it was just them, Briar and Thorin, no explanation needed.

After a long while, he helped her off the table and steadied her on her trembling legs. She leaned against him and shyly slipped off her knickers, now slick with her release, so he could use them to clean his hands.

He did so and folded them, tucking them into his pocket to hide the evidence of what they’d been up to. Of course he suspected their appearance would give them away immediately.

He pulled away after several more lingering kisses; she smiled up at him and stepped in close to brush her nose against his lightly. Her breath warmed his lips as she exhaled.

“That’s an acceptable public kiss. In case you were wondering,” she said breathily. He leaned in and gently rested his forehead against hers, gazing down into her beautiful eyes. “And that’s one of ours.”

She leaned into it, “I like it.”

“I like our private kisses better,” he admitted lowly.

“Me too,” she whispered, breath rushing across his lips tantalizingly.

“When you said as good as married...?”

“I mean we would be expected to at least _try_ to sneak around and be alone.”

“Well, I’d hate to break tradition.”

Briar gave a low chuckle, “No need to worry about that. We’re doing it justice.”

They shared a small smile before the loud clatter of passing feet thundered past the door. They both tensed, wary of being caught, but the hallway soon fell silent.

“I think we’re trying our luck by staying here,” he said softly.

“Come back with me, I’ll give you first try of the biscuits.” She promised warmly, wrapping her finger around one of his braids and pulling him down for a quick peck on the lips.

Thorin felt dizzy and flushed with the pleasure of their brief encounter. He supposed the Stone Father knew what he was doing when he matched their souls. He took Briar’s hand once more, happy to put all worries of the future out of his mind for the time being. “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay! I had surgery yesterday and just got back to edit the chapter this morning! Thank you for your patience! What did you think? Anything you're looking forwards to? Comments, questions, concerns? Please comment and let me know! xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belladonna and Oin bond! Briar has a sewing circle! The company finds hobbits unsettling! Thorin has a mystery on his hands!

Belladonna worried that she hadn’t been the mother Briar needed at this most pressing juncture in her life. Of course she couldn’t be prouder of the hobbit Briar had grown to be. Just look at how she’d stepped up as hostess for their unexpected company while she held vigil at her husband’s bedside?

She’d even seen to the tenants after the last storm and sent correspondence to Buckland, the Great Smials, and the rest of the Baggins clan.

Still, her little one was getting married and Belladonna hadn’t been there for her. Why, her glory box wasn’t even complete! Normally they would have spent time planning the wedding and completing the few remaining tasks in a sewing circle but there simply wasn’t time to arrange one with the risk of another storm bearing down at any time.

As it was, she and Oin planned to wake Bungo at week’s end, eight days after the attack, so he could be conscious and as present as possible for the ceremony.

She and the elderly healer had grown close over the care of their patient and had spent many long hours in discussion of various methods of healing and how they varied between their peoples. At some point during those long, sleep deprived hours she’d lamented the loss of the traditional sewing circle for her darling daughter. Surprisingly, Oin had a solution.

That’s how Briar found herself in the morning room with the brother’s Ri who were all apparently a deft hand at stitching, but especially Dori, the eldest.

Bofur had taken Bifur to the study to continue some carving they were working on and to keep the gruff, wounded dwarf calm during these stressful days.

At the moment Briar was carefully stitching the neckline of a warm night gown while Nori lined her thickest traveling cloak with rabbit fur he’d caught and cleaned himself. “You’ll be thankful for it on the road.” Was all he said when she protested the gift. She let the matter drop since her gratitude seemed to embarrass him.

Ori sat forwards, already halfway done with an oxblood, cable knit, chest warmer to match the embroidery on her bathrobe. It wasn’t the sewing circle of her childhood dreams, but it was shaping up rather nicely.

Dori looked up from his careful inspection of the stitching of her wedding gown, “This is well done work, lass. You could make a living at it.”

Briar blushed proudly, having learned that the dwarf was a Master Tailor. “Thank you, most of the finer stitching was done by my mother. She’s well known as one of the best seamstresses in the Shire. There was something of a scandal a few years back when Goody Plummer offered her a job in her dress shop during the wedding season.” She confided proudly.

The brothers exchanged confused looks but couldn’t make heads or tails of her words. Nori finally asked, “Why would that cause a scandal?”

Briar blinked at them, “for my mother to work would suggest that my father cannot care for her or our family on his own.” She laughed, “Mother created quite a stir when she considered the offer for all of three days. The hills were abuzz with it! There was talk for days.”

“What did your father have to say about it?” Dori asked carefully, wondering how a hobbit would take to his wife potentially emasculating him to the community at large.

She simply shrugged “He knows how mischievous mother is. He told everyone that she was welcome to do as she pleased and any money she earned would be hers to spend. And _he’s_ the respectable one! I thought we’d never hear the end of it.”

“Did she take the job?”

“No, of course not. I doubt she could do with taking orders from anyone; she’s too much of a free spirit for that. But soon after the offer, we began work on my gown.”

“It’s fine fabric, I didn’t know hobbits could weave so well,” Nori leaned in for a look at the smooth, shimmering fabric.

“Oh, a few of us can but it’s rare to be sure. That fabric is actually imported. It was a gift from my godmother.”

“And she bought it because you were being courted?” Ori asked quietly.

“She sent it for my coming of age, assuming I’d be spoken for soon after.”

“Since we have a moment, can you tell me more about hobbit courting?” he asked softly.

“Of course, Ori. I’d be happy to.”

“Tell us more about how your lad was courting you,” Nori asked, studying her out of the corner of his eye.

Briar sighed; the dwarrow seemed to view her practical understanding with Sancho was some grand love story. She hoped to put an end to that with a few clarifying details. “Our courtship was very standard. We’ve been out walking together in groups and he’s fetched me plates and drinks at parties. We sat next to each other at his cousins wedding last spring and we danced together twice at the harvest festival.”

“And that’s not serious courtship?” Dori clarified with a frown. It sounded rather serious to him.

Briar nodded, “right. It’s just us spending time together, seeing how we get along.”

“And what did you decide?”

She shrugged, “I’ve known Sa-him my whole life. We’re a comfortable fit but…” she trailed off, not willing to explain how the threat of another Spring alone at driven her desire to marry. Though she supposed she could give Ori some of the details at a later date.

“What would the next steps be?” Ori asked eagerly, now writing in the notebook he’d pulled from one of his many pockets.

She smiled at the young dwarf. “More walks but with smaller groups-still chaperoned of course. And if we ever danced three times together at a single gathering it would be a declaration of a formal promise.” She set aside her finished gown and pulled out another one.

“I would invite him over for dinner which I’d prepare for him and my whole family. He’d bring flowers for me and my mother then after dinner he and my father would discuss formal arrangements for the marriage.”

“And your father could ask anything of him?” Ori clarified.

“Anything, yes. He’d have _‘final say’_ in whether or not we could marry. My grandfather requested my father build a fine smial for my mother and here we sit,” she proudly gestured to their fine surroundings.

“Why _‘final say?’_ ” Dori asked with a frown.

“Because my mother-any lass’s mother- has unofficial input.”

“Unoffical but very important input?” Nori clarified.

“Exactly.”

“So once you were promised to each other you begin to plan the wedding?”

“Yes. That takes anywhere from four to six months. Any longer and one or both parties seems reluctant and it will appear to be a bad match.”

“Hmm.” Ori fidgeted and looked at her anxiously, Nori had no such compunctions and asked. “But kissing is not allowed?”

Briar blushed redder than her hair. “No. Kissing is not allowed unless a promise has been made. Of course it’s possible to steal a few kisses before then, but if you’re caught everything is rushed.”

“As we see,” Dori teased lightly. He felt a knot of discomfort ease in his chest. She was young to be sure, but seemed sharp enough to keep Thorin on his toes. Royalty or not, he wasn’t about to see a young miss taken from the bosom of her family to be ill used. He’d be sure to offer his family’s service to her before they left for Ered Luin. No need for her to feel alone so far from home.

“I have some silver thread that would make a lovely border for your gown if you’ve a liking for it.”

“I’d be honored Master dwarf!”

“Please, call me Dori,” he smiled paternally.

~~

Thorin had been banished from the morning room since Briar declared it to be bad luck for him to see her wedding gown before the ceremony.

He pretended her absence didn’t bother him but apparently wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

After driving the boys into ground training them with Dwalin, much to the frightened consternation of the citizens of Hobbiton, he was left at loose ends.

The sooner they left this place the better. Hobbits were all together too jumpy and sly for his liking. Anytime he left the hole he felt eyes on him and saw no one. It was unsettling to say the least. Of course he kept these thoughts to himself though he could tell several of his company felt the same.

Notable exceptions being his sister sons who were notably foolish and Bofur who had never met a person he didn’t like. Their high opinions of the Halflings didn’t endear Briar’s people to him further.

His arm hair stood on end as a chill breeze swept past, a shadow flickered out of sight from the corner of his eye. When he turned his head there was no one there. He sighed. Only two days until Briar was his and they could be on their way.

~~

Balin was busy finishing up the basic marriage contract, an entirely separate entity to the betrothal contract Belladonna had signed. He knew his advisor was worried about offending Bungo with some cultural infraction. He rather suspected the older dwarf of having Ori interrogate Briar about their rituals on his behalf. Though that was hard to say. Ori was naturally curious.

As it was, Thorin was sat at the table having lunch with the boys, Dwalin, and the Ur’s. Bombur had taken the ‘sewing circle’ yet another meal and returned to share one with them.

He restrained himself from asking after Briar. Barely. He wondered if they were being kept apart because of their stolen moment the day before but wasn’t about to risk asking and giving their tryst away if it had gone unnoticed.

“So, what’s your wedding gift going to be?” Fili finally asked after Thorin had refused to join in several discussion topics, mind on his bride to be.

Thorin frowned; he had plenty to give her when they returned to Ered Luin. They had finally hit their stride as a colony and the past few decades had seen them prosper beyond his greatest dreams. He was eager to show her the home he’d built for his people. “She shall have her pick of treasures. And of course I’ll make her wedding beads and combs.”

“But you have to have something to give her the day of the ceremony. Or at least the promise of something specific.” Kili blurted out like he had any idea what he was talking about.

Unfortunately, it did sound like a solid plan. “Like what?”

“Well,” Bombur leaned in conspiratorially. The rest of them leaned in, eager to be let in on a secret. “I have noticed they use man made wears. Pots, pans, knives.” He nodded his agreement at the sounds of disgust that rose from the assembled dwarrow.  “I think she’d be keen for some proper dwarrow metal craft or even stone wear.” A grumble of approval rose from the company at his suggestion.

“Poor lass, cooking on man-made wear her whole life.”

“It’s a wonder what they can do with sub-par equipment.”

“She’s a fine cook; imagine how she could perfect her craft with the proper tools?”

“You think I should promise her knives?” he broke into their chatter flatly." He wondered if such a gift would be seen as a threat in this peaceful land.

“And pans. They can’t be too hard to make,” Fili agreed with a nod.

“Aye. And if you ask me, she should be wearing your braid already.” Dwalin grunted before burying his face in his third helping of lunch.

The thought perked him up, that was something he could see to immediately and it would give him a moment alone with Briar. “I’ll see to that this afternoon,” he said firmly, ignoring the pleased looks the company gave each other over his head.

He was wondering how many braids to put in and if Briar knew more than the absolute basics when something Kili was saying caught his attention.

“I swear it was elf-made. I’d say it was a training bow for a child but you see how small they are, it could be a hunting bow for a lady hobbit.”

“How could you even tell it was elf-made?” Fili asked, disbelieving.

“Mistress Baggins told me it was when I asked. She seemed very proud of it. Said it was a gift sent all the way from Lothlorien, wherever that is.”

Thorin glared at them until they noticed his attention and tapered off. “Whose bow was it?”

“I think Briar’s? or her Mum’s but I’m not sure. I don’t know anything else,” Kili swore nervously.

How could he not know anything else with a conversational lead like that? Thorin's face must have shown his displeasure because Kili started rambling again at a rapid pace.

“She thinks I’m still a growing lad and offered me another snack! She has a hidden tin of these jam cookies she called thumbprints!”

“Oi!” Fili cried, hurt to have missed extra cookies.

Dwalin grunted his interest at the idea of tins of cookies hidden around the smial. Thorin tried to cool his temper. He was better than he had been in his youth immediately after their betrayal by Thranduil but the mention of Elves always got his hackles up.

Why would Briar own an elvish hunting bow? Elves were nearly as secretive as Dwarrow, especially their realm of Lothlorien. Such items weren’t easy to come by. How could a people so isolated as hobbits have trade with them? Something wasn’t adding up.

He needed more information.

“Bombur, when you go collect the dishes, send Nori out to me,” he ordered.

“Yes milord,” the other dwarf said absently as he began to collect their dishes.

Bofur sent him an inscrutable expression as he guided Bifur back to the carving they were working on. His sister sons continued to argue over sharing while Dwalin was in the process of checking behind and beneath every piece of furniture and ornamentation in sight, clearly hoping to find more hidden sweets.

Thorin sat back with his cider and tried to piece together what exactly was going on.

~~

They met in the stillroom after lunch.

“It is possible they may be related to elves in some capacity,” Nori concluded his brief overview of his shared suspicions about the Baggins’ relationship to elves. Both males flinched at the very suggestion.

“I thought Halfling stood for half sized? I’ve usually heard men use it?”

“That’s true milord, but their ears are pointed and they are connected to nature in a way most beings aren’t. They have long lives and their vanishing magic.”

“Our lives are longer still,” he pointed out diplomatically.

“Yes, a gift from our father. I don’t know who created hobbits.” Thorin didn’t know either.

“And you say the material of her gown is elvish?”

“There is no doubt, Dori confirmed it though he didn’t want to,” he grimaced at the mention of speaking one on one with his elder brother. “It's a good amount of material too. More than enough for a simple hobbit gown.

“Her parents are wealthy and her grandfather is the steward of the King.” Thorin mused aloud. But he had never heard of trade contracts with the Shire. He needed to find out exactly what he was getting into before they married.

There is also the matter of the books and letters in the study.”

Thorin had noticed the books their first day here. That wasn’t so unusual for a professed scholar like Bungo. But,“Letters?”

“Aye, in Sindarin. I don’t read it well enough to translate and I can’t trust Ori to do it without telling,” he sighed at his younger brother’s scruples. “But there are a lot of them, spanning decades.”

That was certainly news. Well, at least he could go into his meeting with Briar forewarned. Of what? He didn’t know exactly. He could only hope she wasn’t part elf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness we're almost to the wedding chapter! I'm so excited to share it with you! is there anything in particular you'd like to see? What did you think of this chapter? More to come soon when Briar and Thorin have some more alone time!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Updated Story Tags!! Thorin braids Briar's hair! They have an important conversation! Bungo wakes up!

Thorin was grateful for a lifetime of training that had taught him to hide his nerves expertly. And how to braid very well, Kili’s appearance notwithstanding.

He’d had Nori send Briar out to meet him under the guise of a small gift. Which was true, the beads were small.

“Thorin, Nori said you have something for me?” she asked, twisting her hands together nervously.

“That I do, is there somewhere we can be alone?” he asked softly.

Her eyes widened at his request and a soft blush crept up her cheeks, she glanced around like she was afraid someone would overhear. Belatedly he realized she likely thought he was seeking another stolen moment. “Certainly, follow me.”

He followed her to a bedroom along the main hall and realized it was hers as they stepped inside. She closed the door softly and stepped in close to him, with a wide smile. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but that’s not why I asked for a moment of your time,” he said more gruffly than he’d intended.

She looked surprised “Oh? You actually have a gift for me? But I have nothing for you.”

“It’s not that kind of gift. Dwarrow wear braids and beads to tell of our station in life. By all rights I should have put a betrothal braid in your hair the day you accepted my proposal. I would like to rectify that now.”

“Betrothal braid? So each braid has a different meaning?”

“Yes.”

“So there are marriage braids as well?”

“Yes. For the first year we will wear newlywed braids then we will change to regular marriage braids,” he said softly, reaching up to caress a stray curl at her temple.

“That sounds fascinating; you’ll have to teach me all of them,” she said eagerly. “It sounds much like our language with flowers.”

He chuckled at her enthusiasm, “It will take some time to learn them all, little one. And you’ll have to tell me about your flowers as well.” Something her little hobbit lover surely knew like the back of his hand he thought sourly.

“Time is something we have plenty of, Yavanna willing,” she turned her face into his palm, looking up as  he tensed at her words.

“Yavanna?”

“Yes, our mother, the Green Lady.” She gave him a worried look. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, of course. Will you allow me to braid your hair?” he asked, wanting something to do with his hands while he figured out his next words.

Briar gave him a searching look but nodded agreeably. She sat at her small vanity with him standing behind her. It was oddly intimate having a males hands in her hair, more sensual than she could have imagined.

She watched brush her silky curls until they were wavy before parting her hair down the middle and putting a tiny five strand braid down each side, ending past her ear and secured with small silver beads with foreign engravings. By the time he was done she was trembling, cheeks pink and his breath was coming more quickly.

“Do you know how to braid?” he asked, voice low and rough, startling her after their long moments of silence.

“I know a few styles but they are more for aesthetics than any real meaning. Once we are wed I will not wear my hair unbound before any but you an-” she cut her self off sharply not wanting to mention future children.

Better not to hope for the impossible.

Thankfully he let it go and turned the conversation, “Will you wear your hair down at our binding ceremony?” he carefully palmed the back of her head in one huge hand before letting her hair spill through his fingers like so much water. It was gorgeous, her crowning glory.

She licked her lips nervously and nodded, not wanting him to stop running his fingers through her hair and over the nape of her neck. “Yes, to show that I come to you pure, chaste, and unencumbered,” she finished breathily.

Her hair was done, she was his intended. It felt more real now than ever before. All the same, Thorin was reluctant to step away and end the spell wrapped around them. “So your mother is Yavanna?”

“Yes.”

“She is the wife of our Father,” he murmured gently.

Her eyes met his in the mirror, wide with surprise. “You worship Aule?”

“That’s what the elves call him. His true name is Mahal. The Stone Father.”

“Yes, the Crafts Master. That makes sense,” she said thoughtfully.

“I had thought you might be children of Elbereth,” he ventured cautiously.

She smiled wryly, “because of the ears?”

“And your delicacy and fairness.”

She blushed at his kind words, but knew she wasn’t nearly as fair as an Elf. “In a way you were on the right track. I was the first hobbit in memory not born in the Shire…or Bree of course.”

He frowned, wondering how that could be. Hobbits weren’t known for their willingness to travel. “Where were you born?”

“Imladris. Rivendell in the common tongue. ”

He blinked in surprise, “How did that come to pass?”

Briar hesitated, she’d never had to tell anyone the story and it felt more like her parents’ business than her own. Still, she supposed her future husband had the right to know her history.

“My mother wrote to Lord Elrond due to her many lost pregnancies.” She paused; waiting for some reaction, Thorin kept carding his fingers through her hair soothingly, waiting for her to find her words.

Briar continued after a moment, “He is a famed healer and she asked if he knew of a cure for such female complaints. So my parents were invited to Imladris to visit. My father was reluctant to leave the Shire but knew how my mother’s heart suffered the loss of my siblings so eventually he agreed. They were gone for three years and returned with me. My mother learned much from them in that time and since then the number of losses we suffer has dropped quickly,” she concluded proudly.

Thorin was stunned, if not for the elves at Rivendell, his One might never have been born. It was a sobering thought. “And you still have dealing with the elves of Rivendell?”

“Yes, my godmother is an elleth and has sent me many fine gifts over the years. We exchange letters regularly. As do she and my mother. She will be grieved to have missed my wedding.” She said softly.

“I’m sorry for the rush,” he said lowly, feeling like he stood on uneven ground. The rules to the world had shifted. He owed Elves for Briar’s safe delivery into life. Surely a debt that could never be repaid. Yet how could he call Elves family as his love did?

She blushed and reached up to cover one of his hands with her own, “We’re both to blame for that.”

He met her eyes in the mirror, putting his worries out of his mind for the moment “Must you hurry back?”

She bit her plump lower lip and shook her head coyly, peering at him through her eyelashes. He smiled, eager to get in a bit more practice before the bedding.

~~

Bungo woke slowly, feeling odd and off kilter. He didn’t think it was the first time he’d woken up, but he was sure he’d heard Bella calling to him.

Was he late?

For what?

What day is it?

He moved to sit up but found he couldn’t due to a curious lethargy in his limbs, most especially his left arm which felt unusually stiff, like he couldn’t move it even if he’d had the strength.

He blinked his eyes open, trying to clear his blurred vision. Good lord, how long had he slept? He couldn’t even remember putting himself to bed.

Hadn’t Bella been calling?

He shifted his weight, suddenly becoming aware of the scent of crushed herbs and foul tinctures filling the air.

The air of a sickroom.

He tried to call out for his wife but only managed a low groan. Who was injured, not his dear girls? Please Yavanna, No!

“Bungo, you’re back,” he was looking up into the most beautiful face in all the world. Belladonna. Her eyes were filled with tears but she was smiling so there must be some very good news. He relaxed, knowing she would never smile like that if Briar were ill.

He tried to speak again but she frowned and shushed him, helping him sit up to feed him teaspoons of water until he came around a bit more.

It took time and many wandering thoughts for him to realize where he was and begin to piece together what had landed him in this position. He was the injured one. Grievously so.

“Are you with me dear?” she asked softly, eyes full of emotion.

“Always, my lass,” he patted her hand gently. She blushed and gave a watery laugh at the endearment. He remembered the first time he’d called her that. “Will you be mine, then Bella my lass?” as they’d toured the just completed, unfurnished Bag End.

“Oh Bungo, my love,” she lifted his uninjured hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I have so much to tell you. But not before we get some food in your belly.”

“I have everything I need right here,” he gave her a crooked smile.

“You can’t eat love, dear.” She laughed, happier than she’d been since leaving Briar alone in the smial during one of the worst blizzards they’d had in years. Her love had returned to her. And oh did she have a tale to tell.

~~

“Do males wear betrothal braids as well?”

 “Yes, of course. But they can only be put in by our intended.”

“Will you show me?” she asked shyly, standing from the vanity to face him.

He looked at the tiny seat askance, “I’d be honored but I don’t want to break your furniture.”

She laughed, imagining him sitting in the chair. It would be kindling in moments. Unfortunately the only other option was her bed. She saw Thorin glance at it then back to her, but he said nothing. She took him by the hand and led him over, pushing him to sit on the edge. Now they were nearly of height. It was odd being able to look him in the eye while standing.

They looked at each other for long moments, her hands still resting on his chest, his eyes tracing the braids he’d put in her hair.

“Show me,” Briar said softly.

“Come here,” he spread his thighs and pulled her to stand between them, trying not to focus on the feel of her pressed against him.

She stepped in close, feeling caged by the size and strength of him. Loving the feeling. She tried to focus on what he was showing her, pulling his hair forward and guiding her fingers through the pattern. But she was distracted by the coarse, soft rub of his hair. The heady scent of him, the deep pull she felt in her lower abdomen whenever he was nearby now amplified in the aftermath of their tryst.

“Thorin,” she whispered, dropping the braid to press her hands to his cheeks, burying her fingers in his beard.

He groaned at the contact and leaned further into her touch. Too honest with himself to pretend he hadn’t been hoping for this the moment he decided to braid her hair. He knew they only had a few minutes left before someone came looking for either of them, but they could at least make good use of them.

“Hold on,” he murmured, setting his hands around her waist and lifting. She squeaked adorably and latched onto his shoulders, straddling his thighs naturally as he set her down on his lap.

“You shouldn’t be doing heavy lifting!” Briar chastised, cheeks red. “You were just injured.”

“You’re not and never will be heavy,” he snorted a laugh. “Besides, you didn’t mind so much yesterday.”

“I was distracted,” she frowned, starting to say more.

“I like you distracted,” he growled pressing a kiss to her open mouth, sliding his tongue in to tangle with hers.

She moaned and melted into him, hands clenched in the fabric of his tunic. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, full breasts pillowed against his chest. He shifted his hips to press his growing arousal to the curve of her plump bottom. Her breath hitched and she pressed back into it hesitantly.

Thorin paused, wondering if he’d made a wrong move. He was so much stronger than she was; he tried to be careful to read her body so he didn’t overwhelm her. After a moment, and just as he was about to pull away, she relaxed slightly and began kissing him once more.

He sighed into her mouth and ran a gentle hand down the delicate sweep of her spine. Her body fascinated him, so small, soft, and shapely. So unlike what he’d always known as beautiful, but perfect nonetheless.

He was just about to tip backwards and pull her down on top of him when-“Briar? Are you in here?” Belladonna knocked quickly while opening the door. “Rosie, your father is awa-” her words cut off to a quick intake of breath. “I’ll give you a moment,” the door closed quickly.

Thorin wished hobbit doors had locks. Or that they made noise when walking. Or that they knocked, _properly._ At least her sudden appearance effectively had cooled their ardor.

“Oh dear, oh dear.” Briar pulled out of his arms and slid off his lap, patting her hair excitedly. “He’s awake! I must go to him!”

He relaxed; glad she wasn’t reacting badly to her mother walking in on them _again_. Of course she had said they were as good as married already. Apparently that did cut them a lot of slack.

“Of course you must,” he agreed solemnly. “I’ll be happy to speak to him myself when he is well enough for visitors.”

“Oh, of course,” she blinked in surprise as she realized her father had never met Thorin. Who she was marrying in a little over one day. “I’ll be sure to call for you,” she grasped his hand tightly and was gone in the blink of an eye.

He sighed and left her room as quietly as possible. No need to alert his company to their stolen moments. He had enough to think about without adding their trouble to the mix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are really moving along now! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!! Comment below and let me know what you think or if you have any questions you need answered!! Thanks for reading!! xx


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama hours before the wedding! Bungo is awake! Bella has doubts! Briar is planning something!

“Papa,” Briar rushed into her parents’ room as fast as her feet would carry her.

“My dear girl,” Bungo slurred wearily, so relieved to see her it felt like a great weight had lifted off his shoulders. His last memory had been terrifying, praying with all his might that he’d be able to save his wife and she and Briar could live on.

He’d had no doubt he was rushing to his death when he lunged at a warg armed with only his walking staff and lantern.

Everything after that was a blur of blood and agony. Bella had filled him in on the week he’d been unconscious and all that had befallen the household since then but it still felt surreal like this must be some sort of strange dream.

Briar hurried to sit at his side, taking his hand in hers with a bright smile. “Papa, I’m so glad you’re awake. We were so frightened.” Her beautiful hazel eyes overflowed with tears that slipped down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry my dear. I never meant to worry you.”

“Don’t apologize! You’re a hero, papa.” She said proudly. “You gave mama time to turn Sugar Cube loose and set the wagon ablaze. The dwarrow saw it and came to your aide.”

He closed his eyes at that, Bella had left some parts out of her story. His brave lass, always thinking on her feet. At least that brought this around to the subject of Briar’s upcoming marriage.

Far sooner than he’d feared and to a Dwarf of all people! He slid his eyes open and reached out to run gentle fingers over the odd braids framing her pretty face. “I’m not sure about me being a hero but I’ll leave that for the gossips to decide.”

She laughed at that, just as he intended. Bella stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, meeting his eyes with a concerned smile.

“I was just telling your father about your wedding tomorrow,” she said smoothly, causing Briar to blush heartily.

“Yes, papa. I’m to be wed to Thorin Oa- um- Durin. I saved him from the storm…and…” her blush grew deeper and she refused to meet his eyes.

“He took advantage and now you’re paying the price,” he finished bluntly.

Wide eyes darted to his, “Papa-”

“Hobbit’s don’t thrive outside the Shire, love. I know you tradition says must marry him but I beg you to stay here with us to make your home. He can visit if he likes.” Bungo doubted this traveler would long remember a wife he’d been forced to wed.

“Bungo, we used to be river people. There is a wide world out there awaiting. Of course she’ll go with her husband,” Bella interjected.

“Husband,” he huffed, “not without my leave.”

Briar and Bella exchanged a look. “You can’t possibly want me to stay here. Married but alone for the rest of my life.” She didn’t mention Spring but that was clearly what she meant.

“I’d have you safe, my dear. We don’t know these dwarrow. Who they are, where they come from, what they intend to do with you. You’d be far from all you’re ever known with no recourse if he treated you ill.” He said firmly.

“I’ve already made friends among his company! They would be my recourse.” Not that I’ll need it, she thought angrily.

“Bungo, I’d like to think we raised our daughter better than that. Besides, she knows she can always come home, or even call for aide from the elves if need be.” Bella insisted firmly.

“Belladonna,” he sighed, not wanting to argue with both of them. Clearly Briar had stars in her eyes for this dwarf, Bella had told him the fellow was rather handsome if over large. She was young and being led by Spring, her head had been turned so far she couldn’t see the trouble she was in.

And his wife was a romantic who’d always suffered from wanderlust. No doubt she’d be eager to have an excuse to visit a dwarrow city. He was the only one thinking clearly here and he had to do what he felt was right for the whole family. “Briar Rose. I cannot agree to this marriage unless you give your word to stay in the Shire after you’re wed.”

“Papa!” she cried, dismayed jumping to her feet.

“Bungo, you’re being unreasonable.” Bella said sharply. “Besides, I’ve already signed a betrothal contract.”

Of course she had. Still, “we can pay the fee to break it. I won’t lose you to some Dwarf! We don’t even know their marriage customs! For all we know they could trap you under some mountain, unable to communicate with us or leave without his say so.” There, that put a worried crease in Bella’s brow. He wasn’t wrong, they’d heard of stranger practices among other races.

“Thorin would never!” Briar raised her chin defiantly, eyes bright with ire. He turned to Bella for her reaction.

She looked lost in thought for a long moment before shaking her head slowly. “Breaking a contract on top of the scandal? We’d be ruined.”

“She wouldn’t be ruined if she married quickly enough to someone suitable.” He said staunchly. “Drogo is a fine lad, and happy to be my heir. I’m sure he’d marry you if we explain the situation.”

“Drogo is planning to court Primula,” Belladonna cut in skeptically. But it wasn’t a no.

“Mama!” Briar turned to her, eyes wide with horror. She had never felt so betrayed.

“Sweetheart, your father and I need a moment to speak. Go back to your sewing, I’ll call for you,” she said softly. This was going worse than she’d feared.

Briar’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click; she left the room without looking at either of them, lips pressed into a thin line.

Bella sighed as the door closed behind her. Bungo had made some good points much to her consternation. He had given her a lot to consider now she hoped to do the same for him. “Dear, I’ve spent a good amount of time with these dwarrow. They are kind and considerate. I’m sure we can even include some clauses in the marriage contract to your clear specifications.”

He harrumphed and closed his eyes, but she knew he was listening attentively.

“This isn’t like with Sancho or any other hobbit that’s shown an interest in her. Briar and Thorin have a Bond like the one we share. What would you have said if my father had told you we couldn’t be wed for any reason? Or that I couldn’t leave the Great Smials to come live with you?”

He sighed, “I would have waited and done my best to convince him I was right for you. I would have done the right thing and gotten his permission before taking liberties!” he said with a frown, imagining his little lass alone with some hulking brute set to take her innocence.

Bella smiled and crawled onto the bed to cuddle against him. “Yes, you would have. And you did because you’re noble and kind and good.”

He wrapped his good arm around her and pressed his cheek against her curls. “Is it so bad to want the same for our daughter?” he asked tiredly.

Bella sighed, “Of course not dear. You know I want what’s best for her too.”

“I know. It’s unreal to wake up to this.”

She made a sympathetic sound and put a soothing hand on his chest. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you but you can’t treat Briar like a faunt. She came into her majority years ago and has been a real asset this week. She’s ready to run her own home whether we like it or not.”

He frowned, knowing she was right but not wanting to admit it. She let the silence linger for a moment before speaking again.

“Now, think about my earlier question. What do you think I would have done had my father refused to allow us to marry?”

He chuckled, “probably have convinced me to elope to Bree or seduced me so we’d have no option but to wed.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed nonchalantly, waiting for the other shoe to drop. His reaction didn’t disappoint.

~~

Dori gave Bombur a questioning look, hoping he knew why they’d been summoned to the currently empty laundry room. Unfortunately the other dwarf looked just as baffled as he felt.

 _What’s going on?_ He signed in Inglishmek

 _No idea. She’s upset_. Came the reply. As if he hadn’t noticed. He didn’t know Briar well enough to read her emotions but he’d venture a guess that she was deeply hurt. He hoped this wasn’t Thorin’s doing.

“Thank you for meeting with me so quickly. I would have liked to speak with each of you privately but time is of the essence.” She finally spoke after gathering her nerves for a few moments, though she continued sending furtive glances to the door like it might burst open at any moment.

“What’s the problem, lass?” Bombur leaned forward, clearly concerned.

Briar sighed deeply and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “Since we met you’ve both offered me your service and that of your kin. I gratefully accepted but never planned on calling for your aid and certainly not so soon after it was offered.” She admitted regretfully.

“A dwarrow stands by his word my lady.” Dori said stiffly, hoping his honor wasn’t being called into question.

“Indeed he does. Neither of us offered lightly, to do so would impugn the honor of us and our kin.” Bombur agreed soberly. “If you have need of our aid, we would have you ask.”

They shared another quick look, hoping she didn’t need their help to call off the wedding or plead protection from her betrothed.

She gave them a shaky yet grateful smile, relieved to have them on her side. “My father is awake and presenting opposition to the wedding. My mother is willing to stand by her contract with Balin, but if my father presses the issue I’m not sure she’ll grant me her blessing. Father has already offered to pay the breakage fee and marry me off to my cousin.” She explained quickly, embarrassed beyond measure to have to air her family business like this but knowing it was necessary.

“Is your cousin your former courter?” Dori asked with a frown. If so, that made things rather complicated, at least by dwarrow standards.

Briar wanted to scream, why couldn’t they let that go already? She took a breath and kept her cool. “No, my cousin is my father’s heir and the closest thing I have to a brother. I _will not_ marry him. But, I’d have my parents blessing before I wed Thorin. That’s where your help comes in,” she said with a smile.

The two dwarrow traded another glance, well recognizing the look of a schemer. Well, at least they wouldn’t be bored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I hope you liked the chapter! What did you think of Bungo's reaction? What do you think Briar is up to? Comment below, let me know! As always, thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori makes a discovery and inadvertently saves the day! Briar has feelings about this. Thorin is happy things are finally moving along!

“But…what?” Briar knew she was being less than eloquent but her mother just wasn’t making any sense.

“Your father has agreed to give you his blessing to marry Thorin and move to the Blue Mountains,” she repeated softly with a tiny frown.

Briar cocked her head to one side in confusion. “So quickly? Was he that impressed by Bombur and Dori?”

Belladonna wrinkled her nose and released a tiny sigh. “Yes. In part. They’ve both vowed on their honor to treat you as their own kin and deliver you back home should the need arise.”

“That’s wonderful, mama. I’m sure you had some part in this, I must thank you-”

“Rosie.” He mother cut her off gently but firmly.

“Yes, mama?”

“When you told me that you hadn’t gone further than a kiss. Well, I took your word for it as you’ve never lied to me before- at least not to my knowledge.”

“I haven’t. I know honesty is the best policy.”

Belladonna sighed, “You are my daughter aren’t you? Well, papa was worried you do something Tookish so he was already swayed towards giving his blessing. Then your dwarf friends spoke up for you which also helped. I’m sure he’s amending the marriage contract as we speak. But my dear, the final nail in the coffin was the discovery that you truly _have_ been compromised.”

Briar gave a disbelieving laugh, “You already knew that. You walked in on Thorin in my bedroom just this morning!”

“Yes, more _kissing_ ,” she said dismissively. “However Ori found something in the laundry that made all this back and forth meaningless.”

Briar drew a blank. What could Ori possibly have found that cut through all the negotiations?

Belladonna snorted a delicate laugh at her bemused look. “Ah to be young and in love. And not have a pocket handkerchief handy. Though I do suppose you made do.” She tilted her head playfully until Briar caught on to what she was referring to.

Sweet Green Lady, her knickers from their tryst in the storeroom! All the blood drained from her face as she remembered Thorin tucking the stained cotton into his pocket. And Ori had found it during laundry?

“I-we-”she stuttered, not sure where to start.

“In a way you’ve saved your own wedding in proper Took fashion my dear,” Belladonna said fondly. “Relax, he came to me immediately when he found them and I only told your father that new information had come to light that made backing out of the wedding impossible. It didn’t serve to endear Thorin to him further but at least you’ll be allowed to marry now.”

“Oh mama, how can I ever look Ori in the eye again?” she groaned, embarrassed.

“ _That_ is the least of your concerns. Let’s finish packing and get a cart set up to load your things. You’ll be on your way the day after tomorrow. With luck you’ll make it to the mountains before the next storm hits.” She linked their arms and gently led her stubborn daughter through their home for what may well be the last time. She shook off such maudlin thoughts; there would be plenty of time to grieve after Briar left. Until then there was much to be done.

~~

Thorin had never been glared at quite so sternly which was amazing considering his father and grandfather were literal kings and had commanded legions of the greatest warriors middle earth had ever known since long before his birth.

Of course he supposed he had never enraged either of them to the point the wounded hobbit seemed to have reached.

He tried to keep as still and quiet as possible as Balin and Bungo or **_Master Baggins_** as he icily insisted Thorin call him.

He put on his typical negotiation mask of stoic resolve while inside he as nearly faint with relief that Briar would be his without subterfuge or kidnapping. Though he wasn’t sure who would have been kidnapping whom in that scenario.

She had been livid and near hysterical for the brief hour they had alone before her mother sought her out and sent him to fetch Balin and proceed to these negotiations. It was a side to her he had never seen which made sense considering how little they knew each other.

She was like a precious jewel, many faceted and ever more beautiful as he learned her true nature. And she would be his wife, his queen. He breathed a silent prayer of thanks to the Stone Father for his foresight in pairing them. He could hardly wait for their lives together to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter but I don't want to break up the wedding into more than one! Thanks for your patience, I'm sorry for the long wait! Is there anything you'd like to see at the wedding? Let me know and I'll see if I can work it in! Thanks for reading! I love hearing from you all in the comments!xx


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding!!

Thorin was nervous but knew he was doing an admiral job of hiding it. The day had finally come. He’d never been the kind of dwarf to imagine his wedding day with starry eyes though he had sometimes wondered about the dam he’d rule with.

What would she be like? Which clan would she hail from? Which mountains? Would she be made for him by the Stone Father or would his parents eventually have chosen a bride for him as his father had threatened to do on more than one occasion?

And now that all his questions were answered he was left with and even bigger snarl of confusion in his life. He pushed those thoughts aside to be dealt with later. They had the rest of their lives to sort out the mess their unexpected bonding had created.

He fidgeted with his hair again. He had already placed the marriage braid along with his family braids. There hadn’t been enough time to teach Briar the pattern he’d be placing in her hair at the end of the ceremony. He wished there had been time to have a nicer pair of clothes made, but he’d have to make do with the outfit he’d proposed in. At least he already knew Briar liked it.

“Yer thinking too much,” Dwalin grumbled at him from the corner where he sat looking uncomfortable in his nicest clothes and minimal weapons.

“There’s no such thing,” Thorin replied without looking away from his reflection.

“’course there is,” Dwalin grunted, clearly gearing up for an argument on the merits of thinking verses acting when a short knock rang on the door. The bald dwarf stood to open it to find Bofur looking odd without his infamous hat. “They’re ready to begin,” he said cheerily. “Good luck today your majesty!”

“Thank you Bofur,” he nodded to his troops and headed out of his chamber and into the drawing room. Apparently more concessions were being made because of Bungo’s injury than the rushed ceremony. Not that Thorin minded. He wasn’t keen on a barefoot dawn ceremony with half the Shire in attendance, at least not in knee deep snow.

So it was to be a small indoor ceremony with only a few close friends and relatives of the Baggins and of course Thorin’s company.

As he made his way through the halls flanked by Dwalin and Bofur, he wondered if the hobbits had gotten the memo. It seemed that everything outside had been brought in, there could surely be nothing left.

There were woven ropes of evergreen fastened along every rounded doorway. Sweet scented fires blazed in every hearth they passed. Sprigs of mistletoe hung from the ceiling at even intervals alternating with clusters of pinecones fastened with festive ribbons of red, white, and gold. Candles in frosted glass sat on nearly every surface and the scent of a grand feast filled the Smial.

“They’ve been coming and going for hours bringing food and gifts and helping set up, Though I think most came to gossip and catch a glimpse o’ ye,” Bofur confided cheerily as they made their way through the winding halls.

Thorin could believe that. Then, before there was time to worry any longer they had arrived. Because of Bungo’s wound, he’d not be able to walk Briar down the aisle as was apparently hobbit custom. Dawrrow custom of each partner walking towards each other to meet in the middle was deemed presumptuous so a compromise had been made.

Belladonna would walk Briar down the aisle and hand her off to her father who would place her hand in Thorin’s who would be waiting next to the Thain who’d been happy to give the marriage a bit more dignity by officiating the ceremony.

“It’s a promise to take over the care and protection my father has always offered me. If papa weren’t here my grandfather would give me away,” Briar had explained the day before as she deftly wove a wreath of evergreen and holly while they discussed the ceremony.

Thorin made his way down the makeshift aisle between rows of chairs filled with what must be thirty hobbits dressed in their finest, all staring at him with their unnerving eyes, ears pricked forward eagerly. Dwalin and Bofur took up positions just inside the doorway.

Thorin sighed and made his way to the Thain- and elderly hobbit with knowing eyes that promised mischief. He bowed to him and to his future father in law who was dressed in fine clothes though still heavily bandaged and seated in a comfortable chair near the fire. He nodded back at Thorin but said nothing, clearly already weary from his devoted efforts to revising the wedding contract.

“Well met Master Durin,” the Thain greeted him happily. “You have the look of your father.”

“So I’ve been told, milord,” he agreed with a small smile.

“None of that, Gerontious or Master Took will do just fine, young one,” he said with gruff good humor. Thorin nodded his acquiescence.

Dwalin cleared his throat by the door and the Hobbits in attendance stood as one to turn and face the entrance. His company scrambled to follow their lead. Thorin stiffened in surprise as the hobbits began to sing in perfect four part harmony:

_There they stand, hand in hand, and exchange wedding bands._

_Today is the day of all their dreams and plans._

_And all of their loved ones are here to say, Life bless this couple who marry today._

_In good times and bad times, in sickness and health, May they know that riches aren't needed for wealth._

_Help them face problems they'll meet on their way - Life bless this couple who marry today._

_May they find peace of mind comes to all who are kind,_

_May the rough times ahead become triumphs in time,_

_May their children be happy each day - Life  bless this family who started today._

_As they go, may they know every love that was shown, And as life it gets shorter may their feelings grow._

_Wherever they travel, wherever they stay, Life bless this couple who marry today._

As they began to sing, Briar and her mother stepped into the doorway; arms linked and slowly began to make their way down the aisle keeping pace with the song.

Thorin’s heart stopped when he saw Briar came into view, hair flowing down her back like auburn silk. Her gown was bottle green with a high waist and minimal ornamentation, simply a canvass to allow her beauty to shine. The dress had clearly been meant for warmer weather with it’s light nature and gauzy sleeves. <http://www.rivendellbridal.com/Almarea.html>

She was stunning. In a matter of moments she stood at his side, her hand clasped in her father’s as she gave him a nervous smile.

He returned it heartily, feeling almost giddy to be here at her side.

“Please be seated,” the Thain said warmly, waiting a moment for the guests to do so.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this lad and lass in holy matrimony. Should any oppose this union speak now or forever hold your peace."

Thorin glanced around in surprise, why offer such a thing during the ceremony? Thankfully no one spoke up.

“Since none have spoken and no known impediment exists to prevent these two from being wed, we shall proceed. Thorin, you may speak your vows.”

He cleared his throat, happy to be able to keep this small part of his own traditions as part of the ceremony:

_Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One. I give ye my Spirit, 'til our Life shall be Done._

_I vow you the first cut of my meat, the first sip of my wine, from this day it shall only your name I cry out in the night and into your eyes that I smile each morning; I shall be a shield for you back as you are for mine, no shall a grievous word be spoken about us, for our marriage is sacred between us and no stranger shall hear my grievance. Above and beyond this, I will cherish and honor you through this life and into the next._

Gerontious gave an approving nod. “Briar, you may speak your vows.”

Briar took a breath and looked up into Thorin’s eyes; he was so handsome, she wondered if she’d ever grow used to him. If seeing his face would become mundane or would she always be aware of his majesty on some level? She squeezed his hands briefly with her own, hoping he didn’t notice their trembling:

_“I Briar Rose Baggins, in the name of the spirit of light that resides within us all, by the life that courses within my blood, and the love that resides within my heart, take thee, Thorin Oakenshield Durin to my hand, my heart, and my spirit to be my chosen one._

_To desire and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and be possessed by thee, without sin or shame, for naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee._

_I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again._

_I shall not seek to change thee in any way. I shall respect thee, thy beliefs, thy people, and thy ways as I respect myself.”_

The Thain spoke again in ringing tones:

_“May The Green Lady go with you and bless you,_

_M_ _ay you see your children's children,_

_May you be poor in misfortune and rich in blessings,_

_May you know nothing but happiness from this day forward._

_May joy and peace surround you both, Contentment latch your door, And happiness be with you now and Yavanna Bless you Evermore._

_May you live your life with trust, And nurture lifelong affection, May your lifelong dreams come true for you, Move ever that direction._

_May the road rise to meet you, May the wind be always at your back, May the sun shine warm upon your face, The rains fall soft upon your fields. May the light of friendship guide your paths together, May the laughter of children grace the halls of your home. May the joy of living for each other trip a smile from your lips, a twinkle from your eye._

_And when eternity beckons, at the end of the life heaped high with love, May the Green Lady embrace you with the arms that have nurtured you the whole length of your joy-filled days. May the gracious Lady hold you both in the palm of Her hands. And, today, may the Spirit of Love find a dwelling place in your hearts._

I now pronounce you wed. You may kiss the bride,” he concluded proudly.

Thorin leaned in to press a quick peck on his wife’s smiling lips, glad she’d warned him about this part of the ceremony, and stepped aside to quickly braid her hair and fasten it with another of his beads. Briar ran her fingers lightly over the braid and took his hand, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

They turned hand in hand to face their guests who rose to cheer- the dwarrow nearly drowning out the hobbits in spite of their numbers. Many a lass had tears streaming down her face and even Bungo looked upon them with warm eyes as he held his wife’s hand in gentle affection.

Each guest wore a bright smile as they tossed tiny paper cones into the air to rain dried lavender on the couple as they made their way back down the aisle.

Thorin couldn’t stop smiling if he tried. They’d done it.

Briar felt like she’d burst with happiness. The wedding had gone better than she could have dreamed. They could finally start their lives together. After a decent meal of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay next chapter, wedding feast and night! What did you think of the ceremony? Do you like Briar's gown? Are you excited for the wedding night? Comment below, let me know! Thanks for reading!!xx


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding feast! Dwarrow and Hobbits like to party!

Briar shifted in her gown, worrying the sleeves so they wouldn’t drag into the food. Thorin was sat to her left looking as relaxed as she’d ever seen him in company. Though he still maintained his regal demeanor and drank judiciously as though careful not to over imbibe.

“Are you enjoying the meal?” she asked nervous to break the silence that had fallen between them since they were officially wed.

He turned to her with a small smile, “Oh yes. It’s delicious as usual. Your family went to much trouble for our wedding feast.”

He’d been amazed at the sheer variety of foods present when they entered the dining room. So far he’d had cheese, garlic, and parsley pie, ham and parmesan pasties with chives, mushroom pie, red onion and asparagus tart, and spiced pumpkin bread. He was trying to pace himself since it seemed the meal had only just begun with the way more food kept appearing as each dish was emptied.

Briar looked around at the assembled food being decimated by hungry hobbits and dwarves alike and hoped he wasn’t being facetious. Their friends and neighbors had truly come through for them at the last minute, but it was nothing compared to the full feast they’d have prepared had they been given time. But he seemed truly pleased with how the day had gone so she decided to take him at his word.

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to include your thanks in the notes I send.”

“You know who all made everything?” he asked, once again impressed by her memory.

“Well, most cooks have a specialty so it’s easy to tell who made what, but my aunts will have made a careful list of who delivered what so no one feels snubbed,” she assured him cheerfully as she took a bite of succulent roast chicken.

She noticed that the dwarves seemed partial to the honey baked ham, the spiced side ribs, and spiral ham, along with the sweet rolls. She was pleased with her decision to order a whole hog from the butcher. Though it was looking like there wouldn’t be any leftovers from that poor creature.

“What has you so pleased?” Thorin asked, leaning in so she could hear him over the commotion of their rowdy guests.

“Bombur said you all love pork, I’m just glad we have enough of it.”

“Ah. Yes, it’s very popular among dwarves. Thank you for including it in your plans,” he said sincerely.

Briar blushed at his praise. “I didn’t want you to feel like it was _my_ wedding. It’s _ours_.”

He took her hand where it rested between them on the table. “So it is.”

She gripped his hand back tightly and leaned in to give him another word of advice. “In a bit we’ll need to slice the cake for our guests. While we’re serving them everyone will come by and give us their blessing.”

“We’ll hand out cake to everyone?” he clarified, not wanting to embarrass her or himself by ruining her wedding traditions.

“I’ll hand out the wedding cake and you’ll hand out the grooms cake, but only to the unmarried lasses. Don’t worry. Only unmarried ones will ask for a slice, though some might take a piece for a friend.” She assured him just as he opened his mouth to ask how he’d know who was unwed. Instead he asked, “Why?”

She blinked at him in surprise, not having considered that he might never have heard of the tradition. “They sleep with it under their pillow and hope to dream of their future husband.”

Thorin raised his eyebrows in surprise, “does it work?”

Briar blushed, “Some lasses swear by it.”

“And did you ever try?” he asked lightly.

“Yes, quite a few times since I came of age.”

“And? Did you see me?” he teased.

Briar laughed at the question, what were the odds of her seeing a dwarf? “No. I never saw anyone. I thought it was all silliness but Prim swears she saw Drogo and he’s head over feet for her so who knows?” She nodded towards a young couple seated a few places away, attention fully on one another. 

Who indeed.

Thorin ate another bite of creamed potatoes with rich gravy, savoring the delicious meal while he could since there would be no such comfort on the road.

Briar bit into a savory tomato pastry and gave his hand a small squeeze as he refilled her cider without asking. So far so good.

~~

Thorin was ready for the day to be over and for the wedding night to begin. Not only for the obvious reasons, but because he was never one for much socializing outside of his political duties and the sheer number of people vying for his attention was exhausting, though at least the blessings and advice were invariably kind and good natured.

He thanked the Stone Father for his experience negotiating with stubborn kings and generals as it served him well when yet another hobbit lass approached him, wide eyed and eager to claim a square of ‘fruitcake’- and ask questions about the dwarrow in his company. He’d overheard two of them lamenting that the plump one was already married and nearly snorted a laugh. Bombur had never had the physique to appeal to dams, but he certainly fit in with the hobbits.

He sobered up when he realized that while his muscled build was very attractive to dwarrow, that didn’t seem to be the case when it came to hobbit sensibilities. He wondered what Briar thought of him. She’d told him more than once that he was 'rather too large'. He frowned at the memory.

“What’s wrong? Are the girls giving you trouble?” Briar asked from his elbow as she finished slicing the three tiered white cake into sizable pieces. Most if it was already gone, but some hobbits already seemed to be forming a second queue.

Thorin sighed, happy that they’d cut and shared a slice before anyone else was allowed to have any. It really was delicious. And the grooms cake wasn’t bad either.

“No, I’m fine,” he said firmly.

She gave him an amused look, “don’t look so gloomy. We’ll have some on our anniversary every year.” She said softly as she handed another slice to a rotund hobbit who bit into it before he’d even begun walking away.

Hmm. Thorin could get used to some of these odd customs.

Once the cake was gone, and some of his company had cracked open another barrel of beer-to cheers and applause, Briar slipped her hand into his again and leaned against his side as the rest of the company pulled out their instruments and began a lively tune that had the inebriated hobbits tapping their feet and nodding along.

“They’ll be dancing on the tables before long,” she muttered under her breath as her grandfather swung her mother to her feet and started a jig.

“I was about to say the same about my company,” he replied softly, sending her into a fit of giggles then outright laughter as Kili jumped onto the just cleared table and began doing acrobatics.

Thorin was about to call out for him to get down when he noticed that the hobbits were either caught up in their own dancing or were cheering him on. No wonder their furniture was built so sturdy.

He sighed when Fili and Gloin joined in as the noise of the party rose by several degrees.

Briar swung his hand nervously, catching his attention. “Um. Did you want to stay? Longer?” she asked with a deep blush, carefully meeting his eyes.

He didn’t know what to say to that. In dwarrow custom the departing couple would make an announcement and formal exit to cheers, but there was some appeal in sneaking away without any additional awkwardness.

He cleared his throat “Not unless there’s something left undone?”

“No, we’re…our duties are done,” she bit her lower lip and ran nervous fingers over her newlywed braid, eager to be on their way.

Thorin’s breath caught at the implication of her words. “Alright then, let’s go.” He agreed softly, smiling down into her warm hazel eyes. Hand in hand they slipped into the shadows and out of the room, unnoticed by all but a few who simply smiled to see them go. Fondly remembering their own beginnings decades before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Okay wedding night next chapter! I hope you liked this! Is there anything you what to see before they leave the Shire? Let me know! Thanks for reading!!xx


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding night!!

Briar stilled just inside the doorway of her room. It had been decorated for the evening with freshly aired linens and a warm pine scented blaze in the small stove.

Tiny sprigs of evergreen ivy and mistletoe were tied around the headboard and over the door to aid in fertility. She quietly hoped in her sacred heart that the Green Lady smiled upon their union in such a matter.

The noise of the party was but a distant echo with the door shut. She hid a smile as Thorin moved a small table to hold the door closed. Apparently he wasn’t willing to risk them being walked in on again, not that she could blame him.

She was nervous, even with all she knew about Spring and making faunts. It was bound to be very different in practice than in theory.

“You look beautiful,” Thorin spoke up from behind her, close enough that she could feel his warmth along her back. “I should have said so sooner.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome as well,” she turned to face him and the rest of her nervous chatter about the ceremony was lost when their eyes met and the ever present thrum of desire between them hummed to life.

Briar took the half step forward into his arms and placed her hands on his broad chest. He cradled her hips gently between his huge hands. She let out a tiny gasp as he lowered his head to press a kiss to her parted lips. She responded eagerly, feeling the moment between them heat to an almost unbearable level. She tasted the sweet tang of the beer he’d drunk on the tip of his tongue, tasting it from his lips made it a strange exotic spice.

“Help me take this off?” he asked, eyes nearly black but for a thin ring of blue around his pupil. It took a moment for her to realize he meant her dress. “I don’t want to tear it.”

“Oh, yes.” She stepped back with a blush, feeling a fission of nervous excitement at the thought of undressing in front of him. She moved her hair over her shoulder and quickly undid the buttons down her back, growing distracted when she saw that Thorin had taken the moment to remove his tunic and undershirt.

He stood before her, large and imposing. As thickly muscled and tattooed as she remembered him from barely a week ago. He seemed even larger now in the confines of her childhood bedroom. Like there was more of him somehow.

He let out a strangled sound as her dress slipped down her shoulders, revealing her gossamer, thin, shift that did nothing to hide her figure backlit as it was by the small wood burning stove.

He looked at her like a starving man at a banquet. “Briar, you are lovely,” the low rumble of his voice set her inside trembling with want as she stepped out of the puddle of her dress and back into his arms, suddenly shy about removing the last vestige of her clothing.

She didn’t know what to say to that so instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down into another kiss, this one slower and sweeter than the one before.

It was impossible to ignore the feeling of him against her hip. Hard and growing harder. She shifted against him experimentally, pulling a primal groan out of his chest. Seeming to lose patience he set his hands about her tiny waist and lifted her onto the bed. She gave a tiny yelp of surprise, not used to being moved so easily. She was mid-sized for a hobbit, though clearly small for a dwarf, at least weight wise.

He chuckled at her surprise and swallowed her playful complaints in another drugging kiss. She ran her hands over the breadth of his chest, feeling the muscles move beneath her hands. The prickle of his hair stung her palms; he was hot as a furnace and smelled like iron and clean soil.

“Thorin,” she whispered when he finally pulled back to look down at her like she was something amazing. “Briar,” he said softly, “my wife.”

She blushed at the term, loving to hear it in his voice. She sat back on the bed, shifting until there was room for him to join her.

He hesitated a moment before removing his trousers. Her eyes were drawn to the shape of him clearly outlined by the thin linen of his underclothes. She glanced away nervously as he removed them, eyes darting back as the bed dipped with his weight as he crawled to join her.

Even that part of him looked huge to her, though she supposed it would have to be to be proportional. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, trying to hide his own nerves and not get lost in his desire for the perfect female sitting next to him.

She swallowed thickly, throat suddenly dry.

“Briar?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“I-I’m fine,” she whispered, looking up into his worried eyes. She didn’t want her anxiety to ruin this for them, so she slipped her shift over her head and tossed it over the side of the bed in a quick motion that set her breasts jiggling.

The motion caught his eyes in an instant and he sat back with a low groan, gazing at her lush body, one hand absently stroking his cock.

She tipped her head forward to hide behind her curtain of hair, suddenly shy. He leaned forward quickly, bracing himself on one hand and gently moving her hair back with the other. “Don’t hide from me, Sweet Briar. You’re perfect.” He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth, then another until she smiled and turned into it, slipping her tongue between his lips and arching up into him sweetly.

He shuddered, feeling the bare press of her full breasts against him. The satin-silk smoothness of her skin filled him with flaming desire. She felt impossibly small and perfectly built, like she was made to fit into his arms. She smelled sweet, like honey and fresh cut grass.

He opened his palm over her belly, the span of his fingers nearly covering her abdomen which quivered delicately under his hand. He guided her to lay back and moved to range over her more fully, braced  all fours with one knee between her soft thighs. The damp heat of her beckoned, but he ignored it for the moment. Wanting to savor each moment of their joining as it happened.

He ran trembling fingers up the delicate ladder of her ribs to lightly touch the curve of her breast. She moaned at the contact, encouraging him to trace his fingers around the edge, setting her panting lightly. He looked down to see her berry colored nipples peaked and hard, begging for his mouth.

Time moved slowly and quickly all at once, like a dreamscape. As though in a trance, he bent down and took the peak into his mouth, lovingly  cradling both breasts in his hands, burying his face in their soft, firm warmth. She thrashed beneath him, sharp little nails digging pinpricks of pain into his shoulders. “Thorin!” she cried out, low and throaty.

He leaned against her more fully, allowing his thigh to press against her core. Briar braced her feet on the bed and rocked up against him eagerly. He pressed her breasts together and took both peaks into his mouth at once; she wrapped her legs around his thigh and came with a sharp cry of pleasure.

He pulled back in shock, and looked down at her flushed face. “Sorry, they’re sensitive,” she gasped, still clinging to his arms, trembling from the aftershocks from the most intense peak of her life.

“So I see,” he was amazed at the depth of his own voice. At the intensity of his desire. He moved her legs further apart and knelt between them, almost too hard to bear it any longer. He was grateful she’d already found her pleasure because he was sure he wouldn’t last long once he was finally sheathed inside her.

Thorin stroked himself absently and looked down between her spread thighs at the short, strawberry blonde curls nestled around her glistening, pink core. He hid a frown; she looked perfect, but small. Perhaps too small.

He thought back to ‘the talk’ Gloin had with him just the night before about how to go about things without hurting her.

He slipped a thick, calloused, finger inside her, testing her readiness. She was hot and tight around the single digit. Wetter than he could have imagined and the mere though of sinking into her sweet clench nearly had him spilling over his fist.

She gasped, still sensitive, as he slipped his finger back out then further in only to encounter a barrier. He pressed against it more fully but that just caused her to wriggle, a small frown of discomfort wrinkling her brow.

Thorin was at a loss, Gloin hadn’t mentioned anything like this. He paused, uncertain and pulled his hand away.

“What is it?” she propped herself up on her elbows to look at him in confusion.

“There’s…something inside you already,” he said hesitantly, feeling foolish.

She blinked at him, not clear on what the problem was. Her only clue was where his finger had rested just moments before, just barely inside her. “You mean my maidenhead?”

The word meant nothing to him. “Your what?”

She blushed red as her hair, “You just touched it!” she snapped, embarrassed. Trying to close her knees best she could with him kneeling over her.

Thorin prevented her and pressed closer, holding her still, one hand at her waist the other encircling her delicate wrist. “Tell me, Briar. What is it? Your maidenhead.”

She kept her lashes lowered, unwilling to meet his gaze while she explained this most intimate part of her anatomy that was apparently very different than Dams.

“You must break it for us to join,” she said softly.

Thorin was appalled. It had felt very firmly in place. He said as much, causing her to attempt to wriggle away again to go find somewhere to die of humiliation. He stopped her with a comforting squeeze to her wrist.

“Will it hurt you?” he asked flatly.

“Only a bit and only the first time,” she said lowly.

That was something of a relief to hear, that they only had to do this once.

“Alright. Now that I know, let’s try again,” he said soothingly. In spite of their conversation, he hadn’t fully lost his arousal-couldn’t with the way she was moving beneath him. And now it came surging back even stronger than before.

Briar pouted and refused to meet his gaze, until he released his grip on her and rested on his elbows, face just inches from hers. Breath mingling in the warm light of the room.

Just when she thought he would speak again, he threaded his fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck, his palms cradled her jaw as he tipped her head back for another round of slow kisses. He took the time to layer her full lips with tiny kisses before coaxing her mouth open by taking advantage of a sigh before stroking in deep with his tongue.

His kisses won her over. The warmth of him all along her front combined with feeling the rumble of his moans echo through her had her melting against him in spite of herself. _“Thorin.”_

Staying close, he lifted his hips so she could move her legs apart. He braced himself over her again, dropping a quick kiss to the tip of her upturned nose. He took himself in hand and pressed the tip of his cock against her slick opening, hips bucking eagerly as he slid against her most intimate flesh.

Her eyes flew wide at the sensation and when he moved against her again, she shifted to help line them up, sinking her even, white teeth into her plump lower lip. Their eyes met and he pressed in, meaning to enter just enough to break her open but at the last moment she tilted her hips and he slid nearly all the way into her in one full thrust.

His eyes fell shut at the overwhelming pleasure of being surrounded by her. She was wet and impossibly tight. He feared moving at all for fear of damaging her, even as the urge to thrust deeper nearly over whelmed him.

Briar froze as he penetrated her. She was right. He was huge. For the longest time, she was only aware of a ring of fire at her very entrance before she registered the hard length of him filling her. She wondered how he would be able to move. She could feel every pulse and twitch of him inside her.

“Briar?”

Thorin asked softly, once he regained control of his words.

“Yes?” she asked in a strangled voice.

“Is it done?” own voice strained with desire.

Yes, she rather thought it was well and truly done.

“I’m going to move now,” he said softly, caressing her from hip to breast. She shivered at the contact and felt herself grow slightly wetter deep inside. She wondered at her sensitivity to his lightest touch.

He rolled his hips slightly, taking him deeper still-something she hadn’t thought possible-before pulling out and thrusting in again. And again. And again, until he hit something deep within her and froze again.

“Briar?”

“That’s-the end of me,” she said quickly, not wanting him to think the gateway to her womb was another barrier to be broken.

“Ahh,” he sighed, “Alright.”

He began to move again, pressure growing in his loins as he chased his pleasure. He groaned and pressed deep within her, feeling her hesitantly move with him after his initial entry.

Briar shifted, feeling the occasional spark of bliss as he moved within her. Not enough to numb the discomfort but a seed that promised to bear the fruit of passion in due time if it was well tended.

He felt his climax approaching, stronger than he’d ever felt it before. At the last, he pushed up onto his hands to watch her breasts bounce as he moved within her; the erotic sight was enough to push him over the edge. With a quiet groan he flooded her with his seed, a hot rush at her very core. He closed his eyes and rode out the overwhelming sensation.

Briar shuddered at the feeling of absolute completion that came over her as he peaked. She felt fulfilled in the strangest, most primal way- even as she still hungered for physical satisfaction. They moved together, suddenly shy as the throbbing within her lessened and he softened enough to pull out without too much discomfort on either end.

“Are you alright?” he asked, worried now that he could see the blood streaking his cock and her thighs, as well as the small pool of it puddled beneath her hips. She must be in agony, how could he not have noticed?

She gave him a reassuring smile, glad to have that over and done with. “I’ll be fine. Come to bed, I grow cold.”

Thorin did not believe her by any stretch of the imagination, but wasn’t in the mood to argue. Besides, they hoped to set out by mid morning the next day and would need as much sleep as possible as the road was hard and they had quite a journey ahead.

They wiped down as best they could with warm water left in the ewer by whoever turned down the room. Briar pulled her shift back on and Thorin tugged on his trews before they curled together under the covers.

She shivered to feel him still leaking out of her even now. Her body felt alive in a wonderful way, like an entire new aspect of her being had been awakened.

She glanced up at Thorin from where she rested her head on his chest, wondering if he felt the same only to find him fast asleep. She stifled a laugh, remembering all the jokes the other lasses made after  they married. Apparently some things were alike between their races.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! What did you think of their first time? Notice any horrible typos? Anything you want to see before they leave the Shire? or on their journey to Ered Luin? Comment below, let me know!xx


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before!

Thorin woke with the dawn to the soft sounds of the smial waking up around them. He was curled around Briar, reminiscent of their first morning together but much sweeter.

He watched her sleep for a few moments, still not accustomed to thinking of her as his wife. Of thinking of himself as married. This week had been a whirlwind and he knew he’d have a lot of explain to do when they made it back to the mountains.

That was a bridge they’d cross when they reached it, for now it was almost time to go.

He rose as quietly as possible, but it wasn’t enough to keep Briar from waking, giving him a dazed look as she watched him tug on his trousers and tunic.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said softly, leaning over her where she rested against the pillows.

“Mmm, I have sensitive hearing,” she shrugged, still sleepy and a bit sore from the night before. “Sounds like the others are already awake.”

“It does. I’m going to get cleaned up and help with packing,” he watched her wince as she shifted on the bed and wished they could spare a few days for her comfort. But the skies had finally begun to clear and it seemed that they might make it out of the Shire before another snowstorm hit. It was worth it to make the effort.

“Me too,” she sighed, letting her eyes fall closed for a moment, long lashes resting on the soft curves of her cheeks. Thorin felt a swell of surprisingly strong protectiveness fill his chest at the sight. He hoped he was up to the task of caring for her.

“No, you rest a while longer. I’ll wake you when the bathroom is clear,” he said quietly.

She gave him a sleepy smile, eyes still closed. “Thank you, Thorin.”

He crept out of the room, closing the door softly behind him, even as he wished he could climb back into bed with her and hold her for the next little while. It was still such a luxury to embrace a female; he wondered if he’d ever grow accustomed to it.

He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and headed to the bathing chamber, mind on the road ahead.

~~

Briar woke again to the smell of fresh bacon and biscuits filling the air. Thorin stood next to the bed, setting a heavy laden tray on the side table. “Good morning again,” he said softly.

“Good morning,” she smiled up at him, pulling herself into a seated position with minimal discomfort. “Breakfast in bed? You’ll spoil me,” she grinned.

“Isn’t that my job?” he asked lightly as he set the tray on her lap. “Eat up; we’ll be ready to leave soon.” She nodded at his words and tucked into the biscuits with eggs and sausage gravy, bacon, and left over pumpkin bread with butter. Thorin watched her eat in silence as the food vanished at an alarming rate. When she was nearly done, he spoke again “I just wanted to make sure you’re… alright?” he asked stiffly, mind still filled with images of her blood streaked thighs and careful movements.

Briar blushed at his words like she could see into his mind. “I’m fine thank you. I’m sure the…soreness will fade after a few days.” She assured him softly.

He frowned at her softly spoken words, not sure what to say. “Alright. Shall I send your mother in to you?” He was sure they would want to say some private goodbyes.

“Yes, please,” she moved to sit on the edge of the bed as he took her tray. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“You’re welcome,” he collected her tray and quit the room.

~~

“Are you sure you’re alright? He’s…a big un isn’t he?” Belladonna asked anxiously.

“I’m fine, mama. He was very kind. I’m just a bit sore but you warned me about that anyway.”

“That I did, that I did,” she murmured absently as she finished packing a small valise for Briar’s daily needs on the road. Her other belongings-including her wedding gown-had been packed in her glory box and one additional crate that had already been loaded onto the small cart her grandparents had given as a wedding present.

“Thank you, Mama.” Brair sat on the edge of the bed watching her mother flit around the room, making sure nothing was missing from the bag.

“Of course my dear, of course. You’ve a wonderful journey ahead of you! I used to love traveling overland you know. I always meant to make it to the ocean but it never happened.” She sighed wistfully as she folded a night rail.

“When papa is better you can come see the mountains. They’re very near the ocean. I’ll ask Thorin if it’s near enough for a visit.”

Belladonna smiled that. “Hopefully in a few years he’ll be strong enough to make the trip!”

“And will I? You never told me about winter travel.”

Bella closed the leather satchel with a snap and set it on the floor, moving to take her daughters hands in hers. “I’ve never traveled far in winter, certainly not outside the boundaries of the Shire. Just camping from the Great Smials to BradyHall. You’d have thought I committed a grave offense the way my aunt acted when I arrived!” She chuckled. “You’re as prepared as you can be, Rosie. And traveling with an experienced escort. You’ll be fine.”

“Thank you, mama.” Brair smiled, feeling better about the journey already.

“Of course my dear. Now, I’ve packed bandages in case your courses come upon you on the journey, though I’m sure they won’t.” Briar smiled at the caution, with as little as she’d been eating there was slim chance of her menses arriving. They hadn’t arrived in two months and they’d already cut rations before their unexpected guests arrived.

“Thank you, mama.”

“I’ve also tucked some coins into your valise. A small pouch under your knickers. There’s also a tobacco box in your glory box with a few more.”

Brair opened her mouth to protest that Thorin could care for them both very well when Belladonna cut her off. “Now, now my dear. It’s not because you’re leaving or marrying a dwarf. This is family tradition, your grandma Took did the same for me when I left the Great Smials. Every lass needs a little freedom. A little padding for lean times,” she said firmly.

Brair snapped her mouth shut at that and thought about it for a moment before giving her mother an understanding smile. “Of course. Thank you, mama.”

Belladonna blinked back tears, wondering if she’d ever hear those words again once Briar left. There were all the dangers of winter and the road ahead, not to mention the risk of her falling pregnant and child birth. She sighed, “Let me look at you.”

Briar stood from the bed, freshly scrubbed and dressed warmly in a thick, gray woolen dress, her hair pulled back into two thick braids coiled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her marriage braid had been left intact and pinned in place.

“Let’s go see papa, it must be nearly nine. We’ll want to be on our way,” she said thickly, blinking back tears.

“Yes, let’s. He’ll be chomping at the bit to give you your gifts.” They linked arms and headed out of Briar’s room for the last time.

~~

“My dear girl,” Bungo was sitting up in bed, still pale and gray, though looking very happy to see her.

“Papa,” she hurried to his side and they hugged for a long while.

“Now, now. I know you must be on your way.”

“And you must rest. You have to get better papa.”

“I will. I promise,” he kissed his thumb to seal the vow. “I just wanted you to know that this will always be your home. If you ever need a place to go, even after we’re gone. I’m putting it in my will. I’ve spoken to Drogo about it and he gave me his word.”

Briar smiled, knowing such a provision would ease his mind, “thank you, papa.”

“Nothing but the best for my girl,” he said weakly, settling back into his pillows with a small sigh. “You’ll write when you arrive?”

“From Bree and the mountains,” she promised.

“There’s a good lass. You looked lovely you know? At the wedding. Prettiest lass in the Shire.”

Briar blushed at that, knowing it wasn’t close to being true but sure he believed it nonetheless.

“Are we ready for gifts?” Belladonna asked from the doorway where she stood holding three wrapped packages.

“Of course!” Briar grinned as her mother set the packages on the bed so her father could see her open them.

“Well, go on, love. If we wait much longer your mother will insist on you staying for second breakfast,” Bungo winked.

They all chuckled as she opened her first gift. A sheath of fine parchment with dry ink and several quills.

“For your letters, dear. Keep up with your Sindarin,” Bungo urged. “And learn the language of your husband’s people. Knowledge is power.”

“I will. I promise. Thank you, Papa I love it.”

Her next gift was a copy of a Hobbit’s Hearth. Brand New. A bright smile broke out over her face at the sight. “Mama! Really?”

“You’re well ready to run a smial of your own. I have every faith in you, Rosie.”

“Oh thank you, Thank you!” She hugged each of her parents in turn.

“Now for the last,” Belladonna wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Only because of the cold mind you.” Briar opened the package to find thick, white, cable knit stockings that would come just past her knees and a pair of large black boots.

They all frowned at the sight.

“Better than losing my toes,” she said faintly as she sat down to pull the stockings over her feet. It felt indescribably odd. Like wearing scarves down her legs. How did other races do this every day?

“You can put the boots on as you leave. It’ll take some getting used to. Walking in them,” Belladonna said with a small grimace.

“Thank you both. I-” she ran out of words as she looked at them, possibly for the last time for who knew what the future held? She’d nearly lost them a week ago just minutes from home.

“I know dear,” Belladonna wrapped her in a tight hug as Bungo grasped her hand. They all shed more than a few tears but at long last, it was time to go.

~~

Thorin was eager to be on their way, it was nearing nine-far earlier than he thought they’d be ready when Briar and her mother stepped out of the house. He’d bid his farewells to a stiff, unhappy Bungo just an hour prior and had vowed on his honor and the honor of his fathers to protect her with his life.

He hoped his words set the gentle hobbit at ease. It couldn’t be easy for such insular people to lose one of their own. His people were much the same.

He looked around at his company, all armed and ready for travel. Ready to go home.

The door to the smial swung open on silent hinges and Briar stepped out dressed for the weather, complete with a thick cloak, long scarf with matching mittens, and positively enormous boots.

All the dwarrow stopped and stared.

“Hobbits wear boots. From time to time,” Belladonna primly answered their unasked question.

“We’re ready,” Thorin said with a short bow.

Briar stepped away from her mother with a final kiss and took his hand letting him lift her into the cart before he swung up next to her and took the reins of the two donkeys her grandparents had proudly gifted them along with the cart.

In an instant the sides of the lane were filled with hobbits. They stood on the tops of their houses and watched from windows.

They were utterly still and silent, as though they were part of the landscape. Thorin felt goose bumps creep up his spine. If they wanted the dwarrow dead, they’d never hear them coming.

Brair laughed to see all her friends and neighbors come to bid her farewell. She sat up and waved to them all, calling out cheery goodbyes that were returned with fond well wishes. The dwarrow relaxed at seeing they meant no threat.

Belladonna stood at the gate and watched them go. Briar turned to face her at the end of the lane. Their eyes met for an instant before they made the turn and were gone.

“Lady, keep her safe. Grant her your grace,” she prayed softly in the cold morning light, accepting her neighbors well wishes with a hopeful demeanor before heading inside her quiet home. She laughed at the thought that she didn't even have anything to clean to distract her since the guests -both Hobbit and Dwarrow-had seen to the mess from the party the night before.

She sank down on the floor, her back to the door and let herself cry. Oh how she'd miss her Rosie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I had to restart this chapter several times before it finally came along! Hopefully the rest of the story doesn't give me so much trouble! What did you think? Bit of a sad ending, but hopeful as well! We're finally on the road! thanks for reading, please comment! I love to interact with you as you read!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of the journey to the mountains! Culture clash! Romantic Subplot! Drama! Married Flirting!

Briar was lost in thought, watching the Shire roll past slowly as they made their way through the snowy rolling hills of her homeland.

This all felt so surreal. She was an odd mix of excited, terrified, and very very sad. She leaned against Thorin’s arm as he drove, both for warmth and comfort. He was like a wood burning stove to touch. She wondered if all dwarrow were so hot to the touch or if he was special.

“Mistress Br-umm Durin?” Ori hurried to walk at her side and caught her attention.

She smiled down at him; they had been nice to leave her to her thoughts for the better part of the morning. Of course they knew better than most what it was to leave home, possibly forever. She felt another swell of sympathy fill her for their plight. “Yes, Ori?”

“Um, well Miss. Some of the company are wondering something?”

“What is it?”

He held up a sprig of mistletoe with a hopeful look. “One of the lasses gave this to Fili but started crying and ran off when he asked what it meant.

Briar stifled a laugh at the mental image. The poor your dwarrow must have been so confused.

“Did any of the rest of you receive anything?” She asked curiously.

“Yes? But mostly different things.”

“Oh, like what?” she asked eagerly.

Thorin grunted at her side as Ori rushed off to speak to the others as they ranged both ahead of and behind the wagon. “What’s that about? Fili made your kinswoman cry?” he frowned.

“Oh I’m sure he didn’t mean to!” Briar hurried to assure him. “We don’t even know that she’s my kin. It just seems to be something of a cultural muddle.”

“How so?” his somber frown hadn’t faded.

“Oh well, it’s sort of a remembrance. A forget me not but for winter. We give them to lads we care for but won’t see over the winter months to show our interest.”

His thin lips quirked into a small smile, “And have you ever received any?”

Briar’s mouth dropped open at the very suggestion. “No! That would be most improper of any lad! Far too presumptuous!”

He chuckled at her affront, for some reason he found her stuffiness helplessly charming. She was a breath of fresh air to his senses. “Forgive me, I meant no offense.”

She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye that told him she knew she was being teased.

“Here we are miss!” Ori called again. The entire company had huddled around the cart, though only a few of them had received trinkets from passing lasses.

“Curious are you?” Briar asked with a smile. “Alright, well. All of you presumably received some sort of evergreen or winter berry-or oh, yes that’s holly and the other is golden holly. You’ve already seen the mistletoe. In this case the gifts mean varying levels of fondness and a desire to be remembered as you will be remembered. An invitation to court if you desire.”

“Oh,” Fili frowned at the sprig of mistletoe he’d reclaimed from Ori.

“Ah, you’re a heartbreaker lad,” Gloin said reprovingly.

Briar hurried to correct the misconception before it spread-and before an argument broke out. These dwarrow were worse than her Brandybuck relatives after a barrel of whiskey. “No, no. Nothing like that- she’s simply infatuated. It will fade with time and distance.” A dismayed silence fell. Briar looked to Thorin for an explanation, but he looked shocked as well.

“She’s what now?” Nori finally asked what they were all clearly thinking.

“Infatuated,” she said slowly with narrowed eyes.

“ _Influenza?_ ” Oin shouted. “Heard that’s deadly in other races! We dwarrow are far too hearty for that!”

“Oh! You’ve killed her, Fili!”

“What do I do? I got sprigs from three different lasses! Are they all going to die?!” Kili yelped in a panic.

“We have to do something!”

“Can’t it spread to others?! Have we doomed the hobbits?!”

“Enough!” Briar shouted, not sure whether to laugh or cry at their absurd reaction. “ _Infatuated!_ INFATUATED! It means you might like someone and want to find out if you’d be a good match! It’s…being a little in love!”

“How can they be _a little in love?_ ” Kili asked, bewildered. “You either have a One or you don’t and you find them or you don’t.”

“It doesn’t work like that for hobbits,” Briar was getting exasperated.

“Oh yes, they can even remarry after their spouse dies,” Ori said firmly. “sometimes they even have more faunts.”

“Like men then?” Dwalin asked with a frown and a concerned look at Thorin who stared him down without flinching. “Hmm.”

“Alright, pick up the pace; we’ll make a few more miles before we make camp at nightfall and not before,” Thorin snapped and hurried the donkeys along, forcing the company to pick up their pace as well, though they broke off into their usual groups to continue gossiping.

“I’m sorry I made such a fuss,” Briar said after they were alone. “It’s just a simple custom.”

Thorin held the reigns in one hand and reached to grasp hers in the other. “you did nothing wrong. They’ll get worked up about the sun rising given the chance. You should eat something. It’s been a few hours for you.”

Briar squeezed his hand before tucking into the small basket at her feet for some cold pasties. She even broke off a few pieces to feed Thorin as he drove. He complained half heartedly but took the time to surreptitiously kiss her fingers when no one was looking so she knew he really didn’t mind.

~~

It wasn’t until they were making camp that night that Bofur approached her shyly. “Lady Durin?” she startled at the title, though she supposed it was correct. “Yes Bofur? Here to help me stomp the snow?” She’d been assigned at task, though she’d insisted she could forage for edible berries and wood for the fire.

“It’s better you remain here,” Thorin had frowned, looking around the small wooded area in the rapidly fading light like they were in the middle of a battlefield. Briar decided to pick her battles.

“Of course my lady,” Bofur hurried to help her pack down a place for them to huddle together in their sleeping skins.

They worked in silence for a while, Briar focused on walking and stomping with boots on. It was deeply uncomfortable.

“My lady?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t say anything earlier but I got a gift from a lass I met a few days afore your wedding. She weren’t a guest but she was one o’ them waiting to see us leave.”

“Oh? And what did she give you?”

“Nothing fancy like the others got,” he downplayed his gift as he reached to pull it out. “It’s probably nothing. Or maybe a joke,” he laughed nervously as he pulled out a bare twig with the bark neatly scraped off to reveal the pale interior. There was a tiny, perfect crab apple stuck to one end. On closer inspection Briar saw that it had been sliced in half and tied back together neatly with what she appeared to be gold thread but she would bet it was the hair of his admirer.

She stepped in close to see it better, not reaching for it even though he offered. “Bofur-this is an apple love wand. It’s a love confession. She won’t court or marry until you answer her either way.”

An expression of blank shock swept over his features before being replaced by a small, wondering smile. He looked back towards Hobbiton, cheeks pink. Briar hid a smile of her own, just from his reaction she already knew his answer.

“We never even touched. I was afraid…” he faded out softly.

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The heart knows, Bofur. We don’t have ones, but we do believe in true love. The lady guides our steps and gives a lucky few the gift of love at first sight.”

“Oh. I…I’m never out of words!” he burst out laughing as he smiled down at the apple wand clutched in his fist.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Dori said snidely as he strode past, arms full of firewood. Bofur and Briar shared a look before stifling giggles and hurrying about helping to set up the rest of the camp.

Though she saw him carefully wrap the wand in cloth and tuck against his heart, where his hand rested anytime he was lost in thought.

~~

“She can’t even be faithful! Is there any chance she’s bewitched you?” Dwalin demanded hotly as they scouted the area around their camp.

Thorin turned to glare at him. “She’s my One. And Hobbits are known to be faithful to their marriage vows. It’s a matter of pride for them.”

“So they say. Which of course they would. Did you see what she could do with herbs? I saw her father’s wound Thorin, he lost too much blood. He should be dead. They’re not a sturdy as Dwarrow.”

“Dwalin-”

“What if she did something to you? Dams have worse things to become queen!”

Thorin bit down on his temper with great effort. “Dwalin. She is my One and my wife. I hear your concerns only because we are brothers in arms but I will hear no more about this or anything against her or our bond at all,” he ordered sharply.

Dwalin pressed his lips together with a frown but bowed his head dutifully. “Yes my lord.” He made a silent vow to keep an eye on her. Creatures without Ones could not understand true bonds of faithfulness and love. It was his duty to the Crown and to Thorin himself to mitigate any and all threats and until further notice, Briar was on that list.

~~

They made it back to camp in time to see Briar and Bombur dishing out stew and leftover dark bread from the wedding feast. Briar’s eyes lit up to see him emerge from the woods. And she hurried to him with a full bowl brimming with large hunks of roast beef and nearly half a loaf of bread. He felt singled out and cared for in a very nice way.

“I was wondering where you got too,” she smiled as he tucked in before quickly handing out the rest of the dishes and coming to sit at his side on an over turned log.

They sat in comfortable silence as they ate, listening as the others complimented the food and argued over who would take which watch.

Briar frowned to be left out of that as well. She felt guilty that she got to ride in the cart instead of walking and now she got to sleep all night. She whispered her concerns to Thorin who smiled to see her eagerness to pull her weight in the company.

“Briar, we are hardier folk than Hobbits. None of us will tire from walking a few miles a day. Or walking several miles a day without food or rest. We can also see better in the dark which is helpful for watch. Besides, we won’t take in the cold the way you will. In fact I won’t be taking watch on this journey in order to keep you warm. Can’t have you freezing before we reach the mountains.”

“Freezing? Why would I freeze? We have skins and a fire.”

Thorin grimaced “Oin recommended it. He heard from your mother how quickly you all take ill, especially in the winter. I won’t take that risk Briar.”

She sighed, looking for a place in his argument that didn’t make sense, but couldn’t find one. She swore to try and think of other ways to help out whenever she could.

“Alright. But you have to at least allow me to forage when we run out of dried goods.”

“What makes you think that will happen? Your parents sent us off with two pantries worth!”

She laughed, knowing it was true even as she felt a pang of missing them strike her heart.

“You’re shivering, let’s head to sleep, we need an early start tomorrow.” He raised his voice at the end to alter the others.

The other dwarrow set to building up the fire, laying out their skins and covering the donkeys to see them through the night. Briar scrubbed the dishes and pans with snow and turned the snow so the scent wouldn’t attract animals. She packed everything away in the cart went to lie next to Thorin, nearest the fire but still outside of its glow.

It was strange to sleep outside in winter. She had never done it before; it was surprisingly warm beneath the furs, tucked against Thorin’s chest as she was. The still of the night and the physical and emotional strain of the day caught up to her and between one breath and the next, she was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you have any questions you'd like to see the dwarrow ask Briar? I'm already planning the fertility question but I'm sure there are lots of others that branch off of that or are about different topics entirely!
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter! Thanks for reading! Comments are love!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company arrives in Bree! Briar notices something strange going on...

Thorin glanced at the sky with a worried frown. Normally they would have stopped to set up camp by now. The hour was growing late but the sky was still bright with the promise of snow.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, the falling flurries picked up into a steady snowfall. Gloin looked back at him over his shoulder, shifting his eyes to Briar then back to Thorin.

He agreed then that it wouldn’t do to have her attempt to stay outdoors during a storm. They’d all had a scare a few days before when Thorin had left her sleeping as a light snow fell, only to return to find her cheeks grey and her lips tinged blue.

She’d warmed quickly enough once she was awake, but it had been a frightening sight. None of them were accustomed to the weakness of other races. The closest most of them had come were to warriors from the races of elves and men which were no real comparison to a hobbit lass at all.

He nodded to Gloin who turned to lead the line. They’d head on to Bree, hopefully to arrive before the gates were closed-if they had ever opened on this freezing day.

“We’ll be sleeping indoors tonight,” he pressed his face to Briar’s scarf so she could hear him more clearly over the creaking of the wagon and the wind.

She gave him a tired smile that he could only see from the crinkling of the skin around her eyes. She looked exhausted. Thorin worried that even their slow pace was too much for his sheltered wife. He almost wished she was more prone to complaining so he could know how she really felt about their journey so far.

He sighed and tucked a fur robe more tightly around her legs, pushing the donkeys to a faster pace as the snowfall came down harder.

~~

Briar had never been so happy to see anyplace as she was to see the wooden walls of Bree. It was late and she was so cold she wasn’t even hungry. She wiggled her toes in her boots trying to get rid of that awful, chilled, tingling that had dogged her for days.

One of the Company knocked on the gate- she couldn’t tell who with how covered everyone was. They had a brief exchange with the gatekeeper, longer than she would have expected given the weather, but they were soon making their way into the small city.

It wasn’t until Thorin was lifting her out of the cart and hustling her inside welcome warmth of the Prancing Pony that she noticed how tense he was.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly as they made their way to the counter to speak to the proprietor.

“Aye. I’m fine, just eager to be done with this,” he said shortly.

Briar was eager to be done with the journey as well, but somehow she didn’t think that’s what he meant. It only took her a moment to realize something was off.

“Good evenin-ing,” a large man with a cheery smile stuttered when he noticed to whom he was speaking. “Dwarves? Oh! Dwarves!”

“Yes,” Thorin agreed briskly. 

“Well, how many do ye have with you? And will you be wanting room and board?” he asked hesitantly. Briar frowned at the odd question and his uncertain demeanor. Why else would travelers come to an inn during a storm?

“There are thirteen of us and we will require room and board until the storm passes. We also have a cart with donkeys and supplies.” Thorin said in a clipped tone.

“Ahh. Well you’re in luck my good sir! We’ve plenty of rooms available and my wife still has supper on the hob,” he smiled congenially and sent a young man out to see to the cart.

That seemed to be the signal for the rest of the company to join them inside which they did with much stomping and clattering about to get the snow off their boots and outerwear. They all noticeably relaxed at the sight of the nearly empty public room.

“Go sit with the boys while I settle up,” Thorin said quietly as the owner called to his wife to plate up supper.

“Settle up? But we’ve just arrived,” she asked with a short laugh. How could he already know what to pay?

His lips flattened into a thin, angry, line. “We pay as we go.”

“But-”

“Go sit, Briar.”

She raised an eyebrow at his tone but decided not to challenge him in public. She nodded and made her way over to the fire where she stripped off her scarf, hat, and mittens and held her hands over the crackling hearth.

Admittedly, she wasn’t an expert traveler but she had been to Bree and of course had heard tales of travels to other lands but she’d never heard of paying before services were rendered. Perhaps it was a dwarrow custom? Then why was Thorin so prickly about it?

“Come on Mistress before all the food is gone,” Dori fussed as he collected her winter wear and hung it to dry. “You need more than the rest of us.”

She wanted to argue the point but couldn’t. Dwarrow stamina continued to amaze her even after their nearly three week journey just to make it to Bree. Briar didn’t think she’d seen one of them exhausted at any point so far. They barely ate, none of them slept through the night, and they all trekked through waist high snow on foot day after day.

She had never felt weaker or like more of a liability and she hated it.

“Sit here,” Fili called, gesturing to a seat he’d saved between himself and his brother. She did so, pushing her worries aside for the time being. She felt better already as platters of bread and heaping bowls of stew poured forth from the kitchen.

She eagerly tucked into the hearty meal, listening to the chatter of her new family even as she watched the tense line of her husbands shoulders as he ‘settled up’ with the innkeeper, Dwalin at his side looking grim as ever.

“Good luck the inn is near empty, we won’t have to sleep in here,” Balin said happily.

“Why would we sleep in the main room?” Briar asked as everyone else made sounds of agreement. An awkward silence fell. “Nothing to worry yourself over, lassie.” Bombur finally said, full of false cheer. “Eat up! Enjoy a meal you didn’t have to cook!”

Briar nodded her agreement, realizing no one wanted to answer her. She’d press Thorin on it later, they’d have days together while they waited out the storm, he couldn’t avoid her forever. She’d have her answers, one way or another. And perhaps she could put some of the advice she’d gotten to good use. She hid a smirk, no time like the present.

~~

Thorin sat across from Briar, watching her laugh and gossip about something or another with his nephews. He liked to see them getting along, it settled something in his chest to see her embraced so openly by his family.

He knew it wouldn’t be so easy with all of his relatives, but once Fili and Kili accepted someone, they were loyal until the end.

“She’s looking better,” Dwalin said begrudgingly as he bit into a whole loaf of bread. Thorin rolled his eyes at his friend who made no bones about the fact that he was still suspicious of hobbits and their unknown magic. Though he seemed reluctantly protective of their smallest member.

“Yes, it’s good we pushed through,” Thorin agreed somberly.

“And that they let us in.”

“Aye that too,” Thorin agreed bitterly. For a horrible moment he’d thought they’d have to pay simply to enter the city to find shelter from the blizzard bearing down on them. He helped himself to another serving of stew and tried to catch his wife’s eye.

She pursed her lips at him and looked away. Dwalin huffed a laugh, catching the exchange and finding it amusing. Clearly he’d be paying for snapping at her earlier. He sighed; maybe it was time to put some of his diplomatic skills to use to soothe his wife’s ruffled feathers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I had to break this chapter up because it was getting too long and I really wanted to post something! Fortunately that means I have a lot more written already so I'll try to put up the next part by the end of the week!  
> What do you think of Bree? Do you know what's going on with the dwarrow? Anything you want to see on the rest of their trip to the mountains? Comment and let me know! xx


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone time at the inn! What do newlyweds do with privacy? Conversations are had! Personal growth occurs!

“Are we sharing with Fili and Kili?” Briar asked as they made their way upstairs, candles in hand.

The question caught him off guard. “No, why do you ask?”

“They said you all share with family groups when you travel.” _~When you’re not sleeping in main rooms and barns for unexplained reasons~_ She thought acerbically.

“Yes, well. Married couples are allowed more privacy when it’s available.” _~and allowed, and affordable~_

“Hmmm,” she sighed wishing he’d just explain what was going on. At least they’d have some real privacy for her to try her plan.

“Here we are,” he unlocked the room and stepped inside. He’d carried their bags up earlier and she was pleased to see that the room was clean and in good repair. Their room was situated over the kitchen so it was very warm in spite of the storm raging outside. But what really caught her eye was the massive tub full of steaming water.

“Oh a bath!” she grinned so wide her cheeks hurt. She felt positively filthy after over two and a half weeks of travel without any proper bathing facilities. She had no idea how the dwarrow managed traipsing all over Arda and beyond living in the wild.

“I thought you might like one,” he said evenly, pleased to see that his plan of action was already working.

“I’d like nothing more!” she said happily, hurrying to her valise to lay out her toiletries and nightwear while the water cooled some-it was prohibitively hot.

Thorin watched her, a half smile on his face. It was nice to finally be alone together for the first time since their wedding night. He wondered if she’d ask him to leave so she could bathe in peace, but she showed no signs of doing so. He decided to tip the odds in his favor and removed his boots and weapons, setting them within arms reach. No point taking risks in a public inn.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, eyes lingering on the shape of his arms as he undid the buckles on his armor.

Her appreciative look gave him a small amount of hope. He’d feared she’d be too upset for any intimacy- any dwarrowdam would have taken him to task by now for speaking to her that way. Of course any dam would have known why he was paying in advance.

“Do you need any help?” he asked solicitously, still wary of her mood. She couldn’t possibly have completely forgiven him over a hot meal and a bath?

“Yes, please.” She climbed the steps to perch on the edge of the bed and held her foot out playfully. She’d finally gotten the hang of boots, but was still a bit clumsy with their lacing and removal.

He smiled and stepped in to unlace and remove them before slipping her stockings off her feet. She wiggled her toes with a happy sigh that turned into a soft moan when he pressed his knuckle into her instep.

That was a promising sound.

He grasped her foot firmly in both hands and-mindful of her fragile bones- began kneading the tension out.

“Oh, Thorin,” she sighed, unable to believe her feet could feel so good after their long confinement in those horrid boots.

He slowly worked the tension out of one foot then the other with practiced ease until she was lying back on the bed, boneless and relaxed.

The urge to climb up next to her and lay with her for the second time nearly overwhelmed him, but the pressed the urge down and let go of her foot to lightly wrap his hand around her trim ankle.

“The water grows cool, Sweet Briar, you should take your bath,” he said huskily.

She sat up and blinked at him as though she was coming out of a trance. Her eyes were limpid, her cheeks flushed. She looked as she had when they finished coupling the first time and the sight stirred his senses further.

“Alright, I am rather looking forward to it,” she said with a warm smile.

Briar climbed sown the bed stairs and quickly disrobed, undoing her hair and carefully setting her beads aside to be put back later.

Thorin sat on the steps to the bed, happy to watch her get situated. He had never been so fascinated by simply watching someone go about their ablutions. He wondered if it was because she was his One and his wife or simply because he was so unaccustomed to females. Perhaps it was a mixture of the two.

“What are you doing?” Briar finally asked when she was down to just her shift and knickers. Things had been going so well with the bath and that foot rub. She was pleased to see how affected he was by her pleasure and she hadn’t even had to initiate anything yet! But her plan couldn’t continue if he simply sat back and watched her.

Well, she supposed it could-but she didn’t think either of them was ready for that yet.

Thorin was confused by the question. “What? I’m not doing anything.”

“Aren’t you coming? To bathe?” she clarified when he continued to look bemused.

“Do hobbits bathe together?” he asked, surprised. They’d seemed so prim and proper.

“Outdoors,” she admitted honestly. “Only lasses together once we’re older. We’re all washed together as faunts.”

“Dwarrow have similar communal bathing-separated in the public houses,” he said distantly, not really focused on their conversation as he struggled with his growing arousal.

“Well, this tub is big enough for a man-I think we can find room to share,” she said coyly as she stepped out of her knickers. “Besides, I can’t swim; I probably shouldn’t go in alone.”

It was difficult for Thorin to think with his wife standing in front of him in just her shift, but something about what she’d said concerned him. He’d have to think about it later.

He quickly stripped off the rest of his clothes as Briar blushed and took quick peeks at him to satisfy her curiosity. He truly was the most handsome male she’d ever seen.

He stepped in close, causing her to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. Her breath caught at his nearness. He toyed with the hem of her slip, lifting it slowly to savor the moment. One day he would undress her himself, layer by layer.

She raised her arms to let him pull it over her head and set it aside just as he dipped down to press their lips together in a sweet kiss that soon turned hungry. She returned his passion with equal fervor, pressing her body full length against him, wrapping her arms around his waist to keep him close.

He gasped a ragged breath and rutted his arousal against her hip, eager to join with her again. He managed to pull away with a low groan only to give in at the sight of her kiss swollen lips and pebbled nipples straining towards him.

Briar rocked them together with a soft sound of pleasure, loving the coarse feel of his hair against her sensitive skin; the immediate awareness of his raw strength always filled her with liquid desire.

Thorin gripped her soft waist in calloused hands and lifted her with ease up and into the tub. They were only parted for a moment before he settled in next to her with a small splash.

They both groaned at the welcome heat of the water soaking into their travel weary bones. Briar rose up on her knees and leaned out of the tub to grab the soap and a washcloth. She looked over her shoulder only to find Thorin seemingly mesmerized by the sight of her bum-one of the parts of her that was actually pleasingly plump by hobbit standards. And perhaps dwarrow standards as well she thought with a pleased smile.

She turned back around a bent forward a bit more, giving him a bit of a show. “I hope you don’t mind pine soap. It’s the one we packed in my valise. We’ll have more options when we unpack the rest of my crates. Unless you brought your own?” She turned to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Brought my own?” he repeated, eyes trailing from her hips to her breast in a restless pattern.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter.” She sat back and began to scrub her skin from head to toe until it was a fresh, rosy pink before ducking under the water to rinse off only to come up and begin wetting her hair further for cleaning.

When she spared him a glance, Thorin was watching her in absolute fascination. Like he’d never seen anyone bathe before which didn’t make any sense with what he’d told her of communal bathing.

“Let me?” he asked, voice rough with longing.

She narrowed her eyes at him, “let you what?”

“Your hair. Let me wash it?” 

She shook her head with a frown, heart tugged by his despondent expression that he quickly hid behind a blank mask. She quickly explained. “I mean you haven’t bathed. Your hands are dirty. I’ll wait to finish my hair if you want to-”

Thorin looked back at her in surprise, having thought he was being truly rejected. Instead of answering, he grasped the soap and washcloth and bathed himself in quick, efficient, strokes. Hiding his amusement at the way his wife watched him in quick spurts, seeming amazed by the sight of his body. “Is it the tattoos?” he finally asked.

“Is what?”

“The way you watch me? Is it the tattoos?”

She blushed and tucked a wet curl behind one ear, eyes fixed firmly on her bent knees as they peeked out of the water. “Yes, some of it. I’ve never seen tattoos before you.”

“Hobbit’s don’t?”

She looked up, scandalized at the very thought, “Oh, no! Never!”

He huffed a laugh at her sensibilities. “I hope they don’t offend, my lady.”

“No, I don’t mind… I rather like them,” she admitted softly, watching him soap his hard abdomen.

Thorin smiled at her answer, but was still curious about something. “You said my tattoos are _some_ of the reason you look at me that way.”

Now she blushed full on and refused to look up. “I’ve never seen muscles like yours before. The way they’re just under your skin. The way they move…” she faded out softly, but he noticed her pressing her thighs together as she spoke, as though the very thought of his body aroused her.

Abruptly deciding he was clean enough, he moved through the water and knelt in front of her, gripping her knees lightly and spreading them enough to wrap them around his waist. She let him maneuver her without protest and linked her ankles behind his back. “Like that do you?” he asked in a low voice, arousal building again.

She nodded eyes wide. Oh how she loved his strength. He moved her as easily as a doll.

“Answer me, Briar,” he said firmly.

“Yes, Thorin,” she gasped as he set two fingers to her pulse point and slowly dragged them over her collar bone and down the curve of her breast, remembering how sensitive they were. He wasn’t disappointed as she shivered and arched into his touch, eyes wide and black with only a thin sliver of hazel at the very edge. By Mahal she was gorgeous.

Briar, feeling emboldened by the light in his eyes, splayed her hands over his abdomen, feeling his muscles shift as she trailed them up his hard chest and over his shoulders, tracing the thick, black lines of his tattoos with curious fingers.

He groaned at the light contact and pressed his face to the side of her neck, kissing the sweet, soft skin until she arched against him when he reached a spot just above her creamy shoulder. He hesitated then carefully kissed it again, earning a similar reaction.

He shifted his hands behind her waist to lift her slightly and gently scraped his teeth over the spot, causing her to gasp and buck against him, tangling her fingers in his hair with a sharp tug. _“Thorin!”_

He smiled against her, even as he realized this position wouldn’t work- she wasn’t strong enough to support his weight alone and his need was growing by the moment.

In a smooth move, he settled back against his side of the tub, lifting her onto his lap to straddle him. He barely gave her a moment to react before he was back at that sweet spot, kissing and sucking to see what would bring out the best reaction.

Briar felt alive with desire as he explored her neck and throat with nips and kisses. She pressed her breasts against the hard planes of his chest, loving the rough drag of his hair against her peaked nipples. She curled her fingers and dragged her nails over his shoulders, pulling a shudder from him that surprised them both.

“I’m going to come into you now,” he said softly, watching her carefully for her response before slipping his hand under the water to run trembling fingers over her slit. She nodded, biting her lower lip, but meeting his icy blue eyes without shying away.

He toyed with her until she was shifting her hips, eager for more, which he gave her in the form of one thick finger, then two. He curved his other hand around her hip, encouraging her rock her body and use his fingers to find her pleasure.

Briar caught on quickly, feeling her inhibitions slip away as she felt her peak building deep inside. She braced her hands on his shoulders, feeling sensual and feminine as he watched her move with hungry eyes. She couldn’t help but notice his preoccupation with her breasts-which she’d always found to be her best feature. She felt beautiful under his gaze- not too tall, too slim, too anxious. Just perfectly Briar.

That thought was enough to send her over the edge, back arched as she gasped, grinding against the heel of his hand where it rested against the pearl of her sex.

Thorin watched her closely, trying to learn her pleasure points, to learn how to touch her, stroke her, bring her the most pleasure. Thank goodness he was clever with his hands-always had been. He smiled a purely masculine grin of satisfaction at having brought her to bliss on his first try-though he’d really just trusted her to move herself as she saw fit.

She’d slicked his hand with her release, though it was quickly wearing away in the water. He stroked himself with the evidence of her culmination and carefully lined himself up to press into her even as she strove to catch her breath.

Briar felt the thick, blunt head of him at her entrance and pushed down to take him in, eager to be filled again without the pain and discomfort of her first time. It had been weeks-nearly three and her body wasn’t used to the intrusion. It was still a stretch-almost like the first time again without the sharp pain.

She’d forgotten the exact feel of him-how very large he was, how much space he took up inside her. It was exhilarating in a way, to be able to take him and have him as her own. It wasn’t until she was nearly fully seated that she realized he was holding himself still by effort of will-not moving at all, though it seemed to be a strain.

“Thorin?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you alright?” she asked, moving to lift off him. He caught her about the waist and held her still but didn’t press her down to sheath him fully.

“Are you?” he asked, blue eyes hollow with concern.

Her heart ached strangely as she realized he was still bothered by their wedding night. It must have been a terrible shock to him to have to hurt her to join with her. Not to mention his reaction to the blood.

She pressed a kiss to his mouth, holding until his grim frown softened. “I’m fine, Thorin. I told you, it only hurts the first time. I want to find pleasure with you within me.” She rocked her hips as she had while riding his fingers. “Come into me.”

Thorin’s gaze sharpened at her words and he lifted his hips to press into her slightly. She held his gaze as they moved together to join fully. She sighed as she felt him press against the entrance to her womb. It hurt but not unpleasantly, she wasn’t sure she could explain it if she tried.

Thorin groaned deep in his throat, loving the feel of her so tight and slick around him. He was deeper inside her this time, the position allowing her to fully take him. The feeling was beyond description.

He wanted to close his eyes and move with her, simply basking in the physical, but he refused to look away from her expressive face, not wanting to lose himself to pleasure again and cause her harm. In a way it made their joining more intimate, to see each thought and feeling. To bear witness to every sensation as it flickered across their faces or lit their eyes.

They were so enraptured with each other; with the subtle motions of their bodies and the warmth of the water that culmination crept upon them unaware. Briar felt it just as it broke over her like a wave, shattering her like nothing she’d felt before. She clenched around him in hard, rhythmic spasms almost dragging his release from him with the force of her peak. And there again, that wonderful feeling of completion as he filled her with his seed, leaving her sated in more ways than one.

She slumped forwards on his chest, snuggling against him with a happy sigh as he softened within her. He pressed a hand to her back and ran soothing fingers through her still wet hair, absently detangling the very ends of it. “I’m alright,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I felt no pain.” It was a lie, but a small one that would save him more worry and anguished. Besides, she'd rather enjoyed the discomfort.

She felt him relax beneath her as he exhaled a sigh.

“You’ll always tell me if I harm you.” It wasn’t a request.

“Of course I will,” she agreed softly, sensing the time was right. And hadn’t this been what she was aiming for all along? They luxuriated for a few moments more before he shifted and gently withdrew from her.

“Come,” he lifted her off him and turned her to face away as he began running gentle fingers through her hair. “Hand me the soap and oil.”

She did so, letting the heat soothe away the slight ache of their joining, feeling him half hard against her lower back. She glanced over her shoulder to see a contented set to his face though it wasn’t quite a smile. Now was as good a chance as she'd get.

“Thorin?” she began softly.

“Mmm?”

She took a breath. “You hurt me earlier, downstairs with the innkeeper.”

He paused in the act of gently scrubbing her scalp. “I hurt you?”

“My feelings. It made me question my worth to you.”

Thorin was taken aback. He knew she was upset by his clipped tone earlier, but to think that she’d questioned her worth to him. That he’d hurt her feelings and only regretted it when he saw the look on her face was a terrible realization.

“Briar I-”

She cut him off quickly, needing to say her piece. “I know there are things I don’t understand about your world. I’ll have questions that may seem odd or silly to you but when you speak to me that way I feel like I can’t talk to you and I don’t like it. We made vows to support each other. To be in this together but you keep pushing me away.”

Thorin was quiet for a long time taking in what she’d said and turning it over in his mind. Seeing his behavior from her perspective was strange, but he could see how she’d feel disrespected by his words and actions.

“I apologize for my behavior. I never meant to hurt you or push you away. Please feel free to ask me any questions you have and to tell me when I’m being an ass…though it might be best to do so in private.” He concluded after a moment.

Briar ducked her head, hiding a smile. So far so good. “Alright. I can do that. I wouldn’t want to disrespect you in front of your Company or your subjects.”

Thorin frowned at the thought. He wouldn’t want to disrespect her in front of anyone either. She was to be their queen or at least their consort. It would be hard enough for her to earn their respect even without him slipping and talking down to her in public. Not that he cared to do so in private either. That wasn’t the kind of marriage he wanted. Clearly they were on the same page about that.

“Duck your head,” he said, dipping her under the water to clear the suds and oils from her silky hair. She came back up and turned to face him, water darkened hair slicked back and spilling down her back like rich wine.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

“For what?”

“For listening. For trying. Or at least agreeing to try.”

Thorin smiled and tucked her hair behind her sensitive ears, loving the way they twitched beneath his palms. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.” He felt vulnerable for some reason, like he was unarmed in a skirmish. How odd when he was simply sharing a bath with his wife. _~I want to be a good husband to you~_ he couldn’t bring himself to say, though he silently vowed to show her through his actions.

“Of course Thorin,” Briar gave him a sweet smile and turned to lean back against her side of the tub, “I’ll get out now and let you finish your hair before the water goes cold. He quickly knelt and lifted her out closer to the fire and the drying cloths she’d left by the hearth. She dried off and wrapped herself in a cloth before taking a seat by the fire to brush out and dry her hair at the same time.

“I’ll watch to see how you got my hair so soft,” she laughed. It’ll be my turn to do yours soon, though I doubt I’ll be as good at it.”

Thorin began scrubbing his hair and returned her smile with one of his own. For some reason her words brought him a small measure of peace. “Don’t worry. Mahal willing we have decades ahead of us to practice.” He hoped she heard his unspoken words that they both had work to do and with time they’d manage to make this work.

She winked at him, happy her plan had worked. “Yavanna willing, we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels so long! It took me a while to write! I hope you like it! Thanks so much for your comments! Thorin is going to have some explaining to do! Let me know about any scenes you want to see at the Prancing Pony or in Bree! I cherish your kudos and comments!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day at the Prancing Pony! Thorin explains a few things! Briar meets Bree hobbit and shows off some surprising skills!

Briar woke early as usual. Her internal clock told her it was just after sunrise, or would be were there not a storm raging outside. She wished she had the ability to sleep in, but a lifetime of early rising made that impossible. Hopefully she’d at least be able to manage a nap in this glorious bed. She didn’t want to waste a moment of good sleep while she had the chance.

Thorin was pressed along her back, one heavy arm draped across her waist. She pulled away slowly, trying not to wake him but he jolted awake and grabbed her wrist as she sat up. He was fully awake in an instant, looking around the room on high alert.

Briar didn’t know what to make of this. He was always so on edge, even when they were alone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” She said hesitantly.

He released her wrist with a twitch of his lips, “It’s nothing. I’m a light sleeper.”

“I can’t sleep in,” she admitted wryly.

“I sleep when and how long I can. You learn how on campaign.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. “Oh.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, reclining against the pillows and toying with the ends of her hair where they draped over her shoulder. She could feel his eyes on her as he spoke and wondered if he could see her clearly in the near total darkness of the room.

He was nothing but a vaguely accented shadow to her even at this close distance. The thought made her self-conscious and she shyly tugged the top sheet higher over her breasts.

“Don’t bother on my account,” he said softly, a teasing lilt in his voice.

She felt her face flame red, “You can see me!” it sounded more accusing than she’d intended.

“Of course I can. The embers are still lit,” he sounded amused, like he thought she was joking.

“I still can’t see you, Thorin. The only reason I can see on the road is the light of the moon and stars.” She explained further at his continued silence.

“So you are night blind? Like men?” That was worrisome.

“I don’t know how men see,” she shrugged. “But I can’t in low light such as this.”

He rose immediately and went to stoke the fire, building it up until the room was lit once more with its rosy glow. He tried to temper his concerns but hobbits were turning out to be even weaker and frailer than he’d ever imagined. Perhaps it would be for the best if his seed never took with her, though he knew better than to say as much. Her people clearly revered fertility. 

“Thorin?” her soft voice pulled him from his somber thoughts. “Yes?”

“Thank you for tending the blaze,” she smiled as she rose from the bed, and began her morning ablutions.

“Of course,” he smiled, happy to watch her again as she washed her face and dressed in a warm day dress sans stockings and shoes. “Come, let me put your hair up,” he sat on the edge of the bed with her on the top step, head resting against his knee as he carefully began his task.

“Thorin, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why must we pay in advance for service? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

He stilled, tense with anger and embarrassment for the treatment of his people. She had a right to know what she’d gotten into when she married him.

“We-Dwarrow have ever been outcasts since the beginning. But since Smaug and the Wandering Time our treatment in the lands of men has become worse. They turned us away and watched us die on the road. Some towns received groups of dwarrow who were starving and hopeless. Some of them stole. Some of them fled without payment. Some did worse.

The actions of these desperate few sullied our names across the land. I have worked to change that in Arda and along the coast, but change is slow to come with war still on our heels.”

She half turned to look at him over her shoulder. “War?” _What war?_

“Orcs.” Thorin growled the word. “Men and elves blame us for stirring them from their tunnels in the mountains trying to reclaim our home.”

Briar swallowed thickly and faced front so he wouldn’t see the worry his words brought her. “So we are mistrusted? They think we will take services and not pay?”

“Yes. There was some fear that we would not be permitted entry into the city last night.” He said flatly.

“Even in the storm?” Briar couldn’t believe that. Surely no one could be so cruel.

“Even then.” He said grimly. “We might have had to bribe the watchman, or sent you in alone in the worst case, though Bree is not usually so inhospitable as all that.”

She blinked rapidly, a cold dread settling in the pit of her stomach. No wonder Dwarrow were so reclusive. Their lives among other races were naught but distrust and misery. How isolating that must be.

“All done.” Thorin said as he secured her hair in a thickly braided bun at the base of her neck.

“Thank you,” she replied, absently running her fingers over their marriage braid.

“Would you like to practice yours?” he asked gently, fearing losing her to her thoughts as happened from time to time. Thankfully his request brought her out of her momentary stupor.

“Yes, thank you. I’d like to be proficient by the time we reach the mountains. First impressions are lasting you know,” she turned on the step to face him and tangled her fingers in this long tresses with a tender smile.

Thorin gave an exaggerated wince at that, “hopefully not too lasting. I’d like to be able to visit your kin at some point without receiving any death glares from your kin.” She laughed as he’d hoped she would. “Give it fifty years of good behavior and we’ll see. Now, show me how to start a family braid.”

~~

Briar didn’t leave the room until early afternoon. Thorin having been happy to bring her a man sized breakfast to cover both meals as she worked on her correspondence.

She’d written to her parents and grandparents as promised and gotten through thank you letters to her wedding guests who would be all a twitter to receive ‘foreign postage’ from Bree.

She planned to write longer letters to her personal friends who would appreciate receiving letters from the mountains and hearing about the full course of her journey once they’d finally arrived at Thorin’s halls.

She bound the sealed letters with rough cord and carried them down the stairs to the front desk to see about getting them posted. She waved to the members of the company she could see seated around the main room in three groups, receiving smiles and nods in return.

“Well hello there missus!” Briar looked up to see a handsome hobbit of about one hundred years looking at her in surprise from his perch behind the counter.

“Good day, sir!” she replied happily.

“You’ll forgive me but I know all the hobbits from Bree and you’re not one!” he laughed. But you’ve got the look of a Baggins if you don’t mind my saying,” he tapped his nose playfully and she had to laugh along.

It was true, she had the Baggins nose. “You’ve got me dead to rights, sir. Briar Durin, formerly Baggins.”

He looked taken aback for a moment at her odd surname. “ _Durin?_ Oh! You came in with the dwarves last night? They said there was a young dwarf lass with them and I was eager to meet her. Never met a dwarf lass- least not that I knew. I’ve heard tell they all have beards.” He said conspiratorially. “Just like the big folk not to know a hobbit from a dwarf.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

Briar grinned, loving his irrepressible nature. “Yes, I arrived with the Dwarrow. They are my husband’s Company. We’re journeying to the Blue Mountains.”

“Oh, are you now? Long road ahead and make no mistake! We’ll see you fed up before sending you on your way.” She smiled at the chipper lad, his good mood was infectious.

“I’m happy to take you up on that.”

“To be sure, to be sure,” he waved her words away and came around the counter to stand at her side. They were nearly the same height with Briar being about two inches taller. “Now, you don’t mind my asking how you got hitched to a dwarf of all people? A Baggins no less? Sacksville?”

“Hobbiton,” she admitted proudly, watching his eyes nearly pop out of his head as she said it.

“Hobbiton? Near the Old Took?”

“My grandfather, yes. he officiated our wedding.”

He gaped at her for a moment, unable to believe what he was hearing. She laughed and took the opportunity to learn his name. “And to whom am I speaking?”

“Oh! Andwise Roper and it’s a pleasure ma’am. Can I interest you in lunch? I’d love to hear your tale,” he asked eagerly. _And spread the new gossip like wildfire_ went unsaid and understood.

Briar smiled. “You certainly may. I’d also like to see these letters posted back to Hobbiton when the road clears.”

“Of course ma’am of course. I’ll see to it straight away.” he took the letters with an eager grin and rushed off to gather two meals and hear her tale. Cuttar was going to regret begging to switch shifts today!

~~

By the time Thorin came back to the dining room it was near time for dinner. He hadn’t seen much of Briar all day since he’d left her to her letter writing.

He had sent off a few missives of his own back to the Misty Mountains, knowing it would likely take months for the word to arrive. At least he’d sent it as soon as possible to alert his parents to his changed circumstances. Not that he thought that would appease their righteous indignation, but there was nothing to be done for it now.

He’d checked in with all his men and been in a long meeting with Gloin and Balin over their path ahead and their monetary situation. So far so good on both counts.

Dwalin had been his usual curmudgeonly self, glowering during their brief talk during lunch and not saying much either way. Thorin wondered what had got the other dwarrows back up this time. Hopefully nothing too serious, they couldn’t do with being thrown out of the inn while the storm still raged.

“My brother’s looking sour again,” Balin said at his elbow, a smile in his voice.

Thorin chuckled, “what else is new?”

“Wonder who he’s watching so hard?” Gloin wondered aloud.

They had their answer soon enough as they came down the stairs and the rest of the main room came into view. A small crowd had gathered across from the fireplace, appearing to be playing or watching a match of some kind.

And there in the middle of it all was Briar, barefoot and standing on a chair, flanked on either side by his nephews who were cheering her on as she threw…darts? Thorin was gaping, not having expected this at all.

“Catchin’ flies lad.” Balin said, eyes sparkling with mirth. He snapped his mouth shut but didn’t look away from the sight.

“Excellent throw ma’am!” crowed a young hobbit lad who was taking scores on a slate. “You’ve a deft hand.”

“A deft eye you mean!” Briar laughed and threw another hitting the mark that she’d been assigned. It hit dead center.

“Whoa. Will ye look a’ that? Maybe that bow isn’t just for show!” Gloin laughed heartily and clapped Thorin on the shoulder. “Maybe,” he agreed absently, curious to see more.

“She’s in the final round! Winner takes all!” Bofur called, waving them over cheerily.

“We’ve all bought in.”

“Did ye?”

“Well Fili and Kili first-family loyalty you know? But well. I’m no fool. I know a winning hand when I see one.”

“final bets! Final bets. The lovely missus versus our reigning champion who has promised to buy this hobbit all she can eat tonight if she wins!”

“Eating contest after!!” A rosy, freckled hobbit called from the small crowd which erupted in laughter and jeers from the men who had long ago learned not to go against hobbit stomachs in any respect.

“I’ll buy in.” Briar turned at the sound of his voice and gave him a blushing smile when he winked. Thorin tossed the lad a few coins. “On my wife to win.”

The hobbit’s eyes widened as he looked back and forth between him and Briar, though he said nothing. “Sure thing sir. Sure thing!” he took a few more bets then closed the round for good.

Briar and the man she was competing against lined up once more; it was a funny sight as she was far shorter than he-even stood on a chair. It became funnier when they were each instructed to hit the dead center of the same marks on the wall. The man went first as he had the lower score. His first two throws landed slightly off center but his last hit dead on.

Thorin watched Briar’s face as her opponent took his turns. She was flushed and invigorated. She looked as happy as he’d ever seen her. Kili tugged her sleeve to catch her attention and murmured something to her when she bent to face him. They briefly exchanged words and a playful grin flickered across her face before she nodded and straightened up to take her turn.

Her first to throws landed dead center, less than an inch from her opponents’ with deeper strikes into the wall than her previous throws had done.

Thorin relaxed at the sight, by any standard she’d already won.

She glanced at Kili and smirked before making her final throw, hitting another center throw-as apparently her competitor had been off center by less than a quarter inch, her dart sank deep, dislodging his as it landed.

The crowd erupted in cheer, groans, and playful accusations as money quickly exchanged hands.

“Your spoils sir,” the hobbit lad came to the now gathered company and began handing out their winnings with a warm smile.

Thorin was surprised by how much his small bet had earned him. Apparently Briar had knocked out a fair few challengers before he’d made his way downstairs.

He looked to see her shaking hands with a few of the men who he supposed had been in the earlier rounds. She was laughing and chatting with them comfortably. An air of good humor still bound the group even though many of them had lost their bets.

“She really does have a deft hand sir. Even for a hobbit,” the lad said proudly as a bell rang. “That’ll be dinner. Best grab a table, food’ll be right out!” then he was gone.

“They’ve been talking for hours,” Dwalin said menacingly as he watched the lad dart away through the crowd.

Thorin sighed, hearing what his friend wasn’t saying. He was also the only member of the company that hadn’t placed a bet on the game. Thorin wasn’t in the mood for this and nodded his understanding before heading to his wife and nephews.

“Uncle! Did you see?!”

“Not all of it but I saw the final two rounds,” he said amiably.

“She’s amazing isn’t she?”

“We could live off her winnings!”

Briar blushed prettily at their playful words. “Oh hush you two. It’s just darts!”

“Just _nothing!_ I’d love to see you with that bow of yours!” Kili was practically bouncing in place in excitement. Thorin felt his heart warm at how sweetly she treated the boys.

“Leave your aunt alone. She has a victory dinner to enjoy and a larder to destroy,” Thorin placed his hands on her waist and lifted her down from her perch on the chair. “There we go. It was odd looking up at you.”

She laughed brightly, “Not as odd as looking down at you I’m sure.” It was all he could do to remember his princely decorum and not kiss her right there in the main room.

 Instead he offered her his arm and led her to the table the brother’s Ri had staked out for them, making sure to keep her as far from Dwalin and his dark mood as possible. It was easily done as he and the rest of the company had more than a few questions about her surprisingly good aim.

They all chatted until the food came out. She laughed and stood to thank her final opponent when he saw a massive platter of dark bread and corned beef brought to the table for her-though she promised she intended to share with the rest of them, they refused to eat any until she had her fill- which of course was most of the platter. No one minded as they easily working through their own meals while they talked about their winnings and her proficiency. Dwalin refused to join in the light hearted atmosphere, sending Thorin glowering looks every few minutes. Though he stopped when Nori (who had bet and won the most) began to tease him about being bitter for missing out on their unexpected windfall.

Thorin simply ignored his old friend. He knew Briar was his One which meant fidelity. She’d made the sacred vows of her people to their goddess. He trusted her and that was that. Dwalin would feel the same eventually but some things just take time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! and for waiting so long for the update! What did you think? I love getting your feedback and scene suggestions! Comments are love!xx


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Culture clash! Briar and the company take turns confusing each other with the facts of life!

Nearly four days later the storm was finally abating. They would surely be on their way by the next day or the following at the latest. Briar was conflicted about that. As eager as she was to complete their journey and see her new home in the mountains, she was afraid to leave Bree.

When they left, she’d be alone. The only hobbit among dwarrow and the big folk. She frowned down at her darning, lost in thought.

“Can I join you, mistress?” came a shy voice. She looked up to see Ori with his knitting needles and a bundle of gray thread. “Of course you can, Ori. I could do with some company other than my thoughts.”

“Thank you my lady. I’d love the chance to learn more about your people and how you’re faring on our journey.” He started eagerly as he sat next to her on the small bench in front of the fire.

She grimaced at the question. “As ever I’m happy to help with the basics though I’m sure everyone knows what a poor traveler I make.”

Ori blushed, wishing he could take back his words as he remembered the morning they’d thought her dead from the cold. “I’m sorry mistress, I didn’t mean-”

She waved his words away with a small smile. “No, no. I’m just a bit embarrassed by it. I’ve never really seen myself as weak until I met you lot.” She gave a self deprecating laugh. “Well, I mean not weak for a lass.”

Ori started to gallantly respond that she seemed rather strong to him in the ways that really mattered but got caught on the end of her sentence. “For a lass?”

“Well yes. I’m of normal strength for a lass. Lads are stronger of course.” She said absently.

“Of course? In all cases?” the dwarf tried to make sense of what she was saying.

She slanted him a look. “Yes? Or very nearly. At least once we reach our majority. We have a saying, lasses use our strength to bear faunts and truly I’ve never seen a lad do anything so hard as birthing twins,” she laughed.

Ori didn’t know where to begin with that. “So-you-lasses are weaker than lads? And twins? Like men have? Two babes at once?”

It was Briar’s turn to be confused. “Yes? Is that so odd? Men are the same, their males are larger and stronger. With hobbits our height may vary but nine times out of ten a lad will be stronger than a lass.”

He blinked at her owlishly, mind boggled at the idea of a strength difference between males and females. “Then how-”

Briar cut him off sharply, “Wait, do dwarrow not have twins? Ever?”

“We thought twins were a myth until we spent a season working in a fishing village of men.” Briar turned to Fili with wide eyes. He gave a small frown, and sighed. “Is it impossible to sneak up on you?”

She raised an eyebrow, “were you trying to?”

“I bet him he couldn’t. Kili said from just behind her. “I won, you’re my lucky charm Aunt Briar.” He said fondly. She huffed a laugh, “happy to help, Kili. And I won’t say it’s impossible but I do have very good hearing.” She glanced up to see that Ori had abandoned his knitting to take notes on their brief conversation.

“So you all have twins, like men? How interesting. That explains the overabundance of children in your village,” Ori said almost to himself.

Briar was taken aback. “Overabundance? Surely every child is a gift. And yes we have multiples, they run in some families more than others. My mother began keeping strict birth records nearly a century ago and some definite patterns have emerged. The Green Lady smiles upon some more than others.”

“Multiples?” Fili cut back in with wide eyes. “Do you mean just twins or...?”

“Sometimes triplets,” she clarified with a small smile, taking delight in their shock. “Though it is exceedingly rare.”

“Is that what is sounds like? Three dwarrowlings at once?!” Fili yelped, aghast.

She couldn’t help laughing at the looks on their faces, “yes. But as I said it’s very rare and they’re born quite small.”

Ori broke in again with bright eyes. “Birth records? Do you know the average number of dw-faunts a typical hobbit family has?”

She frowned, “over a lifetime? Typically at least ten but some families get up to twenty or more.”

“Twenty?!” “More?! Fili and Kili shouted over each other.

The dinner bell rang, breaking up their conversation as they all gathered as a group to eat at what had become their usual table. Briar ate almost absently, wondering at their surprise at having even ten faunts. With Ones and their exceedingly long lifespans, how did they not have larger families? She decided to ask Thorin the next chance she got, surely she was missing something.

“Lass?” she looked up to see Gloin looking at her, concerned, she wondered if he’d called her more than once.

“Yes?”

“You we’re pulling the lads’ legs yeah? About three bairns at once?”

Thorin laughed outright, nearly choking on his stew as he did so. “Three? Like pups? There’s no such things. Don’t fill their heads with stories, they’re young enough to believe you.” He said to her eyes sparkling fondly like they were in on some joke.

She pursed her lips. “They’re real. Triplets, and twins are more common. Common enough to not be strange.”

Silence fell over the table and she realized they’d all been talking about what she’d told the boys in some capacity or other.

“Well, let’s hope your lady smiles on us,” Oin said sharply, giving Thorin a look she couldn’t decipher before returning to his meal with a pleased hum. The rest of them resumed eating and gossiping with renewed vigor.

Thorin turned to her with an odd look but said nothing, simply reaching to refill her mug with warm ale before she could do it herself. “Thank you.” “Of course,” he smiled but seemed tense. “Eat hearty; we’ll be on our way soon.

Didn’t she know it.

~~

“My lady?” Briar turned to see Bofur standing at her elbow, a nervous smile on his face. Lunch was over and they’d all dispersed into separate groups once more.

“Yes, Bofur?” she asked politely, hoping this wasn’t going to be another round of questions about the impossibility of multiples pregnancy.

“I was wondering if I could ask your help on what to-how to. That is, answer my- Marigold?” he stuttered nervously.

Briar’s eyes widened at his words. “Marigold? You’re courting Goldie Hawkins?” She had been curious about the identity of the hobbit lass who was so gone on the kindly miner but didn’t want to pry.

Bofur frowned at her reaction. “Yes?”

She blushed at her inappropriate reaction to the news. “I’m sorry. I was just surprised. I’ll admit to being curious about your lass but I hadn’t considered she might be Goldie.”

Bofur was still frowning though less so. “She’s a lovely lass, Bofur and considering the parting gift she left you with I’m sure anything you send her will make her the happiest hobbit in the Shire.”

He blushed at her words and looked away with a slight frown like he was thinking of something in particular. “I’d like to send her a letter. Maybe just a note, I know a few letters but only in…the language of our people,” he concluded hesitantly.

She could see the problem. “Ah. Well, I can help you with that. I’d be happy to pen a letter for you if you like?”

“Would you, my lady? I’d hate to take your time?” he asked anxiously.

“It’s no imposition Bofur, I’m happy to help.” She said honestly.

“I-do ye know Marigold then? She did live rather near ye?” he asked curiously as he sat next to her at the trestle table.

“Oh yes. She’s one of our tenants, she’s a few years older than me.” Briar had no idea how Goldie had made it through so many Springs alone. Except for necessity of course, her family needed her help and certainly couldn’t do with more mouths to feed. It was a sad situation and Briar was happy to help the older lass court her dwarf.

"So how did you two meet?" she asked conversationally.

He tugged at his hat, a bright grin spreading across his face. "I was out looking for some carving wood to keep Bifur occupied," he nodded to the other dwarf who was sat near the fire carving a delicate bird into pale wood. She hummed understandingly, the other dwarf seemed kind but would occasionally become disoriented or confused. She steered clear of him as best she could since the rest of the company seemed wary of his violent episodes. She hadn't witnessed one yet but wanted to be safe rather than sorry.

"Well, I was walking and just kind of getting the lay of the land when I heard someone chopping wood. I had already been through your woodpile and found a few good slabs so I figured maybe they'd take some help in exchange for me getting a look at their woodpile. I wasn't expecting lass building a-well too small woodpile for the weather we've been having." he said with a small frown at the memory.

Briar nodded, frowning as well. Goldie's father was notoriously proud and refused help in most cases, saying his family could fend for themselves but she hated to hear that his pride had his family doing without during the winter months.

"Well, mayhaps she'd been at it for a while but she was having a hard time with it so I offered my help. Scared the life out of her-at least she said. But after she calmed down and heard I was one of the 'Baggins' Dwarves,'" he laughed at the term as he said it, "She let me help and we got to talking while I worked. I went back each day for a bit to help her build up the pile."

Briar was smiling ear to ear by this point, loving the romance of their meeting in the quiet woods surrounding the Hawkins family smial. "That's so sweet! And you both fell without the other knowing." she teased lightly.

Bofur grinned, "Seems so, my lady. What she sees in me I can't be sure but well. She's a fine lass, she truly is."

She couldn't agree more. “She can read and write you know? My mother runs a school for the younger tenant faunts to teach them their letters and numbers.” She said brightly, eager to sing Goldie’s praises. “So she’ll be able to send you a reply straight away.” Surely her mother would send Goldie’s letters with hers so she wouldn’t have to worry over postage.

Bofur was shocked to hear of such a thing. He looked at her like she’d grown a second head. A highborn lady doing such was unthinkable. He said as much, causing Briar to feel uncomfortable. Belladonna had started the school after her third lost pregnancy when her spirits were low. She said the children had soothed the empty place in her arms if not her heart.

She hurried to explain. “Well, as you can see we have plenty of time in the winter. And we have the space for it. It can be a nice break for the parents as well.” And a free meal when the children showed for lessons, but she didn’t mention that either, though she rather thought that was why they had such good turnout with as many as ten students on a good lesson day.

“That’s mighty kind o’ your mam my lady,” he said seriously.

Briar gave an awkward laugh. “Papa always said she did it to save herself the time reading our tenants their mail and taking down their letters for them.”

Bofur’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “She did that as well?”

It was Briars’ turn to be confused. “Of course she did? We all do. It’s our duty to our friends and neighbors.”

“But you’re…”

She waited expectantly but he never finished the sentence, simply looking at her goggle eyed. She took pity on him and offered to take down his letter if he knew what he wanted to say.

He shook off his stupor. “I do my lady. And I had thought to send her a gift. I heard you talking with Ori about your meanings and, well.” He reached into his pocket to pull out a small carved apple- clearly a replica of the one Goldie had gifted him, though this one was carved out of heather wood. “The lad who works behind the counter was happy to help me find a ‘romantic wood,’” Bofur laughed heartily, imagining how a dwarrow would have responded to such a request.

Briar smiled up at him, eyes bright. “Oh Bofur, it’s perfect! Heather wood symbolizes dreams, romance, and tender feelings. And of course you know what Apple means,” she grinned cheekily at his blush, almost too happy to help the toymaker in his courtship and take her mind off her own concerns.

She turned her mind to their task even as she made another mental note to ask Thorin about the responsibilities of landed gentry to their tenants. Surely they couldn’t be that different in this of all things? She supposed she’d find out soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! did you like the chapter? do you have any follow up questions about their conversations? anything else you'd like to see? Comment below let me know! xx


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin faces his fears!

Thorin’s head was spinning with all he’d learned since dinner with his company. As usual when in a foreign land, he sent Nori out to collect more information. He wanted to be prepared for his conversation with Briar later that day and didn’t want to look a fool. The baffled look she’d given all of them at their shock over ‘multiples pregnancies’ was stuck in his head.

“Kili’s right, she’s a good luck charm!” Oin shouted proudly. “Imagine having as many dwarrowlings running around Ered Luin as we saw in Hobbiton? Perhaps Yavanna will smile on us since Briar our lady now!”

Thorin swallowed thickly and said nothing. Sturdy dwarrowdams died most often in pregnancy and birth. It was a sad fact of life. If battle didn’t take them then motherhood would. He thought of Briar, cold and blue, still as death. Would he have her long? Or was he destined to lose his One just after meeting her?

“I’ll say so! You’re a lucky lad! Bofur too! I hear he’s courting one o’ the shire lasses himself! Good portents! Good indeed!” Balin agreed happily.

Thankfully Thorin was saved from thinking of a reply to their overwhelming positivity by Nori’s arrival.

“My lord,” he sketched a slightly mocking bow with a playful smile. He had always taken court manners too lightly but Thorin didn’t have it in him to care.

“What have you found?” he asked crisply.

“She’s certainly correct. Possibly even underestimating! At least for Bree they seem to have about fifteen little ones on average. According to the lads down the bar. Several proud fathers among them,” Nori replied, seeming reluctantly impressed by their fecundity.

“Tell his majesty that and he won’t give you any trouble about marrying a Halfling,” Balin said warmly, a twinkle in his eye. Thorin didn’t believe that for a moment but chose to keep his own council about his parents’ reaction to his nuptials.

“I’ll send another missive when we arrive in the mountains and not sooner. We still have much to learn about my wife’s people.” He said stiffly, mind skipping ahead to supper. “In fact I believe we’ll dine alone this evening and head out at first light.”

“Aye, ye’ do that my lord. Should still be cosseted away together as it is,” Gloin grumbled good naturedly.

Thorin gave a genuine laugh at that, they had only just begun to be financially comfortable enough for newly married couples to take time away from their duties for a few weeks and that was only in families of the highest wealth. “From your lips to the Father’s ears,” he said fondly, wishing for the day his people could live as they did before the dragon came. With luck they soon would.

~~

“This is nice. Thank you for suggesting it,” Briar smiled at him as she unpacked hot sliced brisket and warm honey rolls from the small basket she’d collected from the kitchen for their meal tonight. “I’ve always loved picnics. Indoors or out.”

“Aren’t all meals on the road picnics?” Thorin teased, loving the way she smiled at him out of the corner of her eyes. He had a sudden almost overwhelming desire to spend a month alone with her. Getting to know her as a person and as his wife. He sighed and leaned back on his hands to watch her.

“What are you thinking?” she asked softly.

“About our usual ritual of a month of solitude for a newly married couple. It’s an old custom and one we haven’t been able to observe since the Wandering Days, though it is slowly coming back. At least to the Blue Mountains.”

She smiled, “that sounds lovely. Will we do that when we arrive?”

He blinked, not having given the idea serious thought though it did have some merit. “I-don’t know. I suppose we could, my sister has been regent while I’ve been traveling a few more weeks would be no hardship for her. If the mountains are still standing and we aren’t at war with the elves, I’ll look into it,” he joked.

They shared a smile at the idea of truly having time and space to themselves, something each realized was hard to come by in the close knit family circles of their people.

“Well, I’ll hope for the best then,” she said lightly. “Come, eat before it gets cold.”

Thorin waited until she glanced away to pounce. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to rest between his thighs, her back to his chest, she laughed and playfully struggled in his arms until he subdued her with kisses to her cheek and neck. “I surrender! I surrender!” she laughed, internally marveling at how different he was when they were alone.

“Ah! And I have my prize!”

 She settled back in his arms with a sigh, “If you insist on holding me we’ll have to share a plate.”

“I have no issue with that.”

“Me either.”

They fell silent as they tucked into their meal with gusto, watching the flames and simply enjoying each others company until they set their plate aside and sipped warm cider from earthenware mugs.

“So, you created quite a stir earlier,” Thorin said lightly. Briar raised an eyebrow inquisitively but said nothing. “All your talk of dwarrowlings will have them betting on us having twins or triplets,” he clarified.

She rolled her eyes, “That’s very unlikely. There are hardly any on either side of my family and apparently none at all on yours.”

“But your lady could make it happen?”

“Of course! If she wants to bless us with many faunts she will find a way,” Briar said stoutly.

“Hmm.”

She turned to him with a small frown. “What is it? Is the idea so very odd?”

“Well. Yes,” he admitted honestly. “Until a few hours ago I had never heard of triples.”

“Triplets,” she corrected softly.

He was hesitant to say anything of his fears, worried that his words would come out to harshly and offend her.

“What is it, Thorin?”

“I know you’re a practiced doctor after your mother. I wonder if your people practice preventing…faunts before time?” he asked as carefully as he could. No matter his effort her face contorted to a look of shocked horror. “No! Never! Yavanna’s will be done Thorin!” she pulled back from him with a gasp. “Have you been..?”

“No!” he hurriedly assured her. “I wouldn’t know how. You’re the only lover I’ve ever taken and my people aren’t nearly so fertile as yours. There’s rarely a need for such things. We are grateful for every babe born.”

“So are we,” she said firmly the words _overabundance of faunts_ echoing through her mind. What an absurd thought.

“Yes, but it happens so rarely for us. I know from working in their towns that men have certain…practices. I meant no offense, I only wondered if your people did as well.”

Briar watched him carefully as he spoke and her shock faded. There was something he wasn’t saying, perhaps something he hadn’t even admitted to himself yet but she could see a picture forming. One that didn’t fully make sense but unsettled her all the same.

“Well, we don’t practice such things. Those who do are ostracized so as not to invite Yavanna’s wrath.” She said warily.

Thorin had feared as much. “I see.”

 _Do you?_ She wondered privately as she watched him in silence.

“I only hope we have some time together before…before any faunts arrive.” He smiled but it seemed off somehow.

Briar gave him her best reassuring smile, still trying to get a read on what he wasn’t saying. “I’m sure we will. It can take many seasons for a lass to fall pregnant and the times between faunts of course. We’ll make time,” she cupped his jaw in her hand, turning his head gently so he’d look her in the eye.

Thorin gazed back at her with an almost sad look, like he was memorizing her features in the firelight. “Yavanna willing we have many years together.” He agreed softly, tipping his head until their brows touched.

Her eyes danced across his face as though trying to parse his thoughts through her gaze alone. A soft frown painted her features at whatever she found. He swallowed thickly and pulled her in to rest against his chest to hide the terror he could feel building in his heart.

Thorin felt like a countdown had started since she found him in the snow and for the first time he resented the Stone Father for making her his One. Surely it would have been better for them to never have met than for her life to be so shortened and for him to have to learn to live without her again?

They’d been married for barely a month and already the idea hollowed him out inside.

He gave himself a moment to wallow in self pity before pulling himself together and making a firm decision. If he was only to have her for a short time-and it seemed that he would- then he vowed to make the most of it.

After all, he knew better than most that there are no guarantees in life. Especially his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience on this chapter! I'm so sorry I never got back to your comments from last chapter! I read and appreciated them all! I hope you liked this chapter! and as usual please comment to let me know of anything else you'd like to see in the story! Thanks so much for reading!xx


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road to Ered Luin! Briar shows off more surprising skills! Thorin tells Briar about Moria...

Briar was many things but she wasn’t a fool. Something was bothering Thorin even as most of the company was in far higher spirits than before. If not for Thorin’s strange mood, she’d have thought they were simply eager to be back on the road, leaving the wooden walls of Bree and the warmth and safety they brought behind them..

Knowing how dwarrow were treated in Arda and across the kingdoms of elves and men she could understand their joy at leaving the settlement of hobbits and men to return to their own kingdom. Perhaps Thorin was worried about the journey ahead?

“How much longer until we reach Ered Luin?” she asked casually.

“Two weeks if the weather holds, three at the outmost.”

“You must be eager to return home.”

He gave her a small smile, “Aye. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Tell me about it? You said it was a colony?”

“Yes. Centuries ago- long before my birth-there was a great dwarrow kingdom of Belegost In the Blue Mountains. The kingdom fell, but some of our kin always remained in a series of small settlements scattered throughout the mountain range. I lead a segment of our people to settle here after the wandering days and the reclamation of Moria.”

Briar was always impressed to hear of what he’d accomplished at such a young age. “How old were you then?”

“72 when we set out from Moria.”

Briar hid a frown behind her scarf, he’d just barely reached adulthood. “Why didn’t you stay with the remainder of your kin in your ancient kingdom?” That cost you so many lives to reclaim? She didn’t ask.

Thorin was silent for so long she thought he wasn’t going to answer her. “Moria is…still lost to us in many ways. It is no place to raise dwarrowlings. Our kin across the kingdoms will not send their sons and daughters to make a life there. There are no easy trade routes and it is a place of constant war with goblins and orcs and fell creatures of the depths. Evil sleeps there and until it is cast out, Moria shall remain lost.” He finally said voice hollow with sorrow.

How _dreadful_. “So you took it upon yourself to lead your people somewhere new?”

“Yes.” he said, as though the word could convey the decades of political machinations and careful planning and diplomacy it took to even get his father to agree to allow the settlement in the first place. The easy part had been getting settlers to follow him. With the departure of his caravans, Moira had become little more than a fortress brimming with warriors.

“How very brave of you,” she said softly. “You truly are a hero.”

He shook his head ruefully, reminded of her youth and innocent upbringing when she spoke so. “I’m but a dwarf, Briar. Doing what anyone would for his people.”

That clearly wasn’t the case if his father and grandfather had chosen to fight a nearly impossible battle rather than find a safe haven for their scattered and broken people. Briar sighed and leaned her had against his broad shoulder in silent solidarity. She rather doubted he’d welcome her words against the rule of his kin.

“You’re a hero to me,” she murmured and only knew he heard her when shifted to wrap his arm around her waist and hold her close as he drove one handed. She hated that sometimes words weren’t enough.

~~

Briar slowly inhaled the cold winter air and let her body relax into the crouch she was holding. She willed herself to be invisible.

An indistinguishable part of the landscape.

She’d left her boots behind at camp so she only had a few more minutes before the cold became a risk.

She exhaled and fired a single arrow, snagging a snow hare through the eye and the one next to it through the neck.

In an instant she knocked another arrow and got another as it fled. The remaining two hares stumbled directly into the snares she’d set and chased them into. Perfect.

They were nearing two weeks out from Bree and the dwarrow had been openly wishing for fresh meat instead of the pemmican they’d been eating for the better part of the week. They still had a few more days to go-days of light snowfall had noticeably slowed their journey as they neared its end.

Briar had been enjoying getting to know the company better and couldn’t help but be impressed by their regular high spirits and willingness to dig out the road for hours at a time even when they’d been on watch for a good portion of the night. They rarely complained of the cold and were solicitous to her to a fault.

It was lovely. Except that she secretly felt they were treating her like a child a times. The bothersome thought had niggled in her mind and grown as time passed. She was smaller, and weaker, and more susceptible to the inclement weather. She tired more easily and needed more food. But those were just basic facts of her physiology that she had no control over, but at times it was hard not to resent herself for being just as she was.

Today Thorin had called for an early camp to give them a chance to rest and scout the foothills ahead. Some of the company had decided to try their hand at fishing in a nearby stream while she had a different idea.

 “That was amazing!!” Kili whooped from nearby where she’d left him downwind so he wouldn’t scare away her prey. He ran to her side, tucking his own bow away and slinging a companionable arm around her shoulders. “Just wait ‘til I tell everyone you caught dinner! They’ll never believe it!” he laughed, looking like Thorin but without the deep shadows in his eyes.

Briar couldn’t even fake modesty at her accomplishment. “I told you the bow isn’t just for show!”

“You weren’t lyin’!!”

She’d seen the tracks earlier and made a plan to prove her usefulness once and for all. Of course she knew everyone appreciated her help setting up and breaking down camp, cooking the majority of meals, cleaning, and using her precious stores of dried tea to warm everyone on particularly cold days but this was different.

“I’ve got it,” she grinned at him as he stopped at the snares. She knelt down, “you’d best keep watch. Fili will kill you if you don’t,” she wrinkled her nose playfully.

Kili groaned but resumed his position as lookout as she prepared the hares for the trip back to camp. “He always knows. The curse of being a younger brother I suppose.”

“I suppose. I can always tell when my younger cousins are lying. They think I can read their minds but they all have tells,” she laughed at his expression, feeling lighter than she had in weeks.

~~

They made their way back to camp making comfortable conversation. Kili was one of her favorite dwarrow. He wasn’t nearly as reserved as the other members of the company and told her all about what life was like in the mountains and what it was like to travel overland for hundreds of miles.

They were just over halfway back when Dwalin came into view over one of the snow enlarged hills, a thunderous expression on his face.

Kili stopped in the middle of telling her about his first time getting drunk, a frown on his face. “We aren’t late are we?”

Briar glanced at the heavy sky with a small frown of her own. “No, we still have a while until sunset.”

“Maybe uncle got him lost while they scouted the road?” he suggested wryly.

Briar giggled at the thought. Thorin had a notoriously bad sense of direction-with good reason as she’d learned so far on their journey. “That would put anyone in a bad mood.”

They were near enough to hail without drawing attention from others; Kili raised a hand, “Dwa-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Dwalin snapped. “Back to camp, **now.** ”

What followed was a short, miserable walk punctuated by what sounded like brief arguments in their secret tongue.

Briar had been tersely informed that she was not permitted to learn their language in any form, but the dwarrow often slipped and spoke it around her. She never reminded them to stop and hoped that with time she’d learn a phrase or two. If not more.

But it was still too soon for that so all she heard was guttural grunts and a clear irritation on both sides.

By the time they made it back to camp, she was eager to leave their company and start dinner.

“There you are lass! Gone longer than we thought you’d be!” Bombur hurried to her side with a relieved smile.

Briar was confused. “We told Fili we were going to follow some hare tracks I spotted a while back.”

“Well, we didn’t know how far back now did we?” he asked gently.

Briar refrained from rolling her eyes, still in a good mood from her hunting success. “Anyway, we brought back dinner!” she gestured towards Kili who proudly held her brace.”

Gloin stepped in to look them over. “A good size for winter. Clean kill marks, good work boy.”

“Actually,” Kili beamed, setting up the moment. “Briar got them with her little bow. It was a thing of beauty! She’s a natural! Even cleaned them herself!”

“Never say so miss!” Ori beamed at her looking very impressed. “No wonder you’re so good at darts!”

Briar blushed becomingly. “Hobbits have good aim. ‘tis a skill we perfect as it has many uses.”

“So we see!” Bofur leaned in to get a look at her kill. “Though I’m thinkin’ _good_ isn’t the word!”

The rest of what he said was lost in the clamor of the rest of the company gathering around to chew over this latest gossip. Briar beamed, finally feeling appreciated for contributing to the company in a real way.

“You surprise me yet again, Sweet Briar,” Thorin murmured into her ear. She turned to face him with a flirtatious smile. “I endeavor to do so, dear husband.”

“And you succeed,” he placed a large hand on the small of her back and led her to their sleeping furs that he’d set up while she was gone. “Where did you learn to shoot like that? It’s a truly impressive skill. Particularly with your model bow.” He teased lightly.

She wrinkled her nose playfully as he knelt and helped her roll on her stockings and lace up her boots. “I told you it wasn’t a toy!” her heart swelled as he laughed, eyes crinkling with joy. “As you say, milady.”

She sighed, “we go on group hunts in the summer and autumn to stock our larders for winter. I showed some promise with a traditional hunting bow and my mother bragged to my godmother about it. She sent my bow along with a friend of hers, a Dunedain Ranger. He’s helped my shooting immensely.  I’m known as one of the best shots in the Shire,” she stated proudly. “Though most are simply impressed by my aim as you were at the inn.”

“Indeed I was,” he agreed before sobering a little and took a breath. “I have only one request of you, wife.”

She tensed slightly, remembering Dwalin’s strange reaction to finding her and Kili heading back to camp. “Yes?”

“Let me take you hunting sometime. I’d love to see you in action,” he said. Honestly feeling a bit jealous of Kili for enjoying an impromptu hunting trip with Briar.

She looked up at him with a happy blush painting her cheeks. “I’d like that. I’m sure it will be easier to keep _you_ quiet while tracking our prey.” Thorin couldn’t help laughing at that, knowing how much Kili could chatter when he was bored. He leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “We’d better wait until we reach the mountains for our hunting trip. I might lose my head to finally be alone with you once more and forget about tracking our prey all together.”

Briar bit her lip and glanced away, his playful words heating her blood. She only wished she could be so bold. “I do look forward to…being alone with you again.”

“We’ll be in Ered Luin soon and see about proper cosseting,” he promised softly. “Come, warm yourself by the fire and we’ll enjoy the supper you’ve caught us. I think you’ve earned a night free of cooking.”

He helped her stand and tucked her beneath his arm as they made their way back to the center of camp and the company eagerly waiting to hear about her shooting prowess as Thorin simply tried to enjoy the moment in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! What did you think? Are you excited to see Ered Luin and meet Thorin's people? Anything I've missed that you want to see? Let me know!!xx


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last days of the journey to Ered Luin! Briar bonds with some of the dwarrow! Thorin steals her away for a moment alone!

Briar was nervous, though she hid it well. Their journey was rapidly approaching its end and she still didn’t know quite what to expect of Ered Luin in spite of casually questioning several member of the company.

She was excited, but as they drew nearer to mountains she began to feel suffocated by their sheer size. If she stood at the base of one it would block the sky. It didn’t help matters that Fili took the time to assure her that their Blue Mountains holdings were the least impressive size wise. That someday she would see the Misty Mountains and be truly amazed. Briar smiled weakly at his words and tried not to feel nauseous at the very prospect.

She was terrified to ask if their city was truly carved directly into the heart of the mountain as she’d heard dwarrow cities were built. It sounded awfully claustrophobic to her.

How could she live in the darkness? In the cold of the earth without the warmth of the sun, the light of the stars, or the presence of green, growing things?

“Alright there?” Nori asked quietly from beside her. He was driving the cart for a brief while as Thorin walked ahead deep in conversation with Balin and Gloin. Briar had been grateful for the reprieve from his anxious presence.

He was still acting a bit off as he had been since their last night in Bree. She hoped he’d open up to her when their journey ended and they were safe in his halls. She didn’t know him well enough yet to know what was bothering him, but she had a few educated guesses.

“I’m fine, Nori. Just thinking about journeys end.” She answered honestly.

“Anything in particular you care to know? I’m the dwarf to ask,” he nudged her playfully.

She sighed, wondering how to put her thoughts into words without insulting his culture. “Kili was telling me about Ered Luin. How it’s a colony that spans various settlements in the mountain range with the main holdings being Thorin’s Halls.”

“Yes, though I imagine it took some precise questioning to get that clear an answer out of him,” he chuckled as she wrinkled her nose in agreement. “What about the colony, my lady?”

“Is it…underground?” she asked hesitantly.

Nori picked up on what she was saying immediately. “Ahh. Most of it is, yes. But there are some buildings on the slopes and just at the gates.” He hesitated a moment before speaking again. “No one will expect a summer lass to thrive under living rock, well. Some will but they’re fools. Thorin is many things but a fool isn’t one.” He finished softly. She raised her eyebrows at him, noting that it was the kindest thing she’d ever heard him say about anyone.

He shrugged off her look with a frown. “If he gives you trouble the Ri’s back you as we said we would. We promised to see you well milady and as your stand in kin, we’ll see your needs are met to the best of our ability.”

Briar grinned at him, feeling a bit more at ease at the prospect of living under the open sky. Surely Nori wouldn’t mislead her, not when his honor was at stake.

“Thank you, Nori.”

He grunted irritably, as always uncomfortable with praise. She decided to change the subject. “So, did you volunteer to drive just to get at Dwalin? Or did you really want to try your hand driving a hobbit made cart?”

Heads turned as he burst into jovial laughter. He smirked at a scowling Dwalin, “Oh you’re onto me the way that stick in the mud never has been!” he chortled, looking at her with clear approval. Hmmm. Perhaps he’d like having a sister. 

~~

It was just after making camp and night was falling quickly. Bombur had taken over more cooking duties when he noticed Briar teaching Bofur his letters in the snow while the light lasted and when their chores were done.

“He’s a true romantic,” Bofur grumbled, embarrassed when he caught on to his brothers machinations.

“He just wants to see you happy,” Briar said softly. “Can you blame him? Wouldn’t you do the same for him if he’d found his One?”

Bofur sighed, “Aye. And thank goodness he has found her. We’d have no dwarrowlings at all without those two back home.”

Briar hid a frown at what was clearly a joke about their low fertility rates. Bombur and his wife were considered exemplary for their eight children. She shook off the thought. “Come now, we have a bit of light left. Do you remember the song I taught you?”

“I remember!” Ori chimed in happily as he carried an armload of wood to set by the fire so it could be fed to last all night.

“’course you do, little bookworm!” Bofur laughed as Ori made a rude gesture then fell over himself trying to apologize to Briar for forgetting himself.

She laughed at their antics, “come on both of you. Sing it for me and write your letters out.”

As expected with his practice in Sindarin, Westron, and Khuzdul (she had a name for it now!) Ori picked up Hobbitish with gratifying speed and was well on his way to learning the proper rules of grammar while Bofur still struggled to write the alphabet-most of it illegibly.

Briar made a mental not to acquire some slates for them to practice on, though snow and eventually dirt would serve just fine for the basics. Thankfully Bofur was dedicated and a quick learner.

She carefully stood at his side; saying the name of a letter and watching him carve it carefully into the snow. She had initially worried about having two students of such varying skill levels work together, but Bofur was so sweet natured and laid back that competition and hurt feelings never became an issue.

“Very good. Do you remember which letter comes next?” she coached him gently.

He frowned and mouthed the song for a moment before ducking his head to write again. She had a goal that by the time they reached the mountains he’d be able to add a few sentences to each letter he sent Goldie.

Or course she’d write it out for him to copy, but it was the thought that counted. They’d be his words in his hand. She was sure Goldie would love knowing he cared enough to learn a new tongue just to be able to write her.

“Very good! I think penmanship will come naturally to you!”

“Aye, I’ve always been good with the finer work,” he said absently as he tried to remember where the weird dots went for this character.

“Are proper titles capitalized? Or just given names?” Ori asked, hunched over his notebook by the fire. Briar stepped over to his side to explain the rules of capitalization, one of the more complex grammar rules in their language.

“Thank you, milady, you're a right gift you are." Bombur squeezed her arm lightly as he bustled past. She gave him a small smile, finally starting to feel like she might belong.

~~

According to Thorin it was their last night on the road. The next day by midmorning they’d arrive in Ered Luin. And they were already on his land. Their land. The mountain range.

“Come walking with me?” he asked as she finished up the supper dishes. The sun had been down for a while and the cold was settling in, but Briar was just as eager for a moment to themselves as her husband seemed to be.

“Of course,” she smiled and tucked her cloak more securely about herself. “Do we need to tell someone where we’re going?”

“I already have.”

He offered her his arm which she took with relief. He was always so warm; being near him was bliss in the chill weather.

They stepped out of the ring of firelight into the lightly wooded area surrounding the camp. The moon was large in the sky, providing ample light on the still night. They walked in silence for a while but stopped before getting to far from camp.

“Here we are,” Thorin said, leading her to a small brook running rapidly enough that it wasn’t frozen over.

“I was wondering why we didn’t have to melt snow for water tonight,” she smiled.

“And now you know.”

They sat on the rocks at the edge of the stream, watching the water flow and reflect the light of the night sky. All was silent but for the sounds of nature settling in around them. Against her will, Briar shivered. The air near the water was cooler and cut through even her warmest clothes.

Thorin’s brow crinkled in a frown but instead of insisting they head back to camp he removed his heavy over cloak and tucked it around her shoulders, engulfing her in his warmth and scent. “Better?”

“Much,” she smiled and took his hand, twinning their fingers before turning back to watch the water.

He looked down at their hands for a long moment before giving her fingers a light squeeze to catch her attention. “How do you fare?”

She knew what he meant but wasn’t sure how to answer. “I’m…nervous about tomorrow. But eager to be done with the road.”

He huffed a laugh at that. “I’m eager to return home myself.” She swallowed thickly, thinking of her parents and Bag End. This wasn’t her home, at least not yet.

“I do wish we could have sent word ahead of our nuptials. As it is, we’ll send a pair ahead tomorrow to let them know we’re returning. We’ll arrive around late afternoon if all goes well."

“So they’ll have a few hours to get used to the idea of you marrying a hobbit?” She asked wryly.

“Aye.” He gave her a smirk out of the corner of his eye that set her heart racing. “The idea of me being married at all. For a time it seemed Dis would be the only one to find her true mate.”

“But you’re not so old for your people?” he wasn’t even middle aged, a thought that truly boggled her mind when she let herself dwell on it.

“No, but for as far and as often as I’ve traveled it’s been considered odd that I haven’t met my One.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve met every dwarf in every mountain range in all of middle Earth.”

Well there’s your problem, you were looking in all the wrong places.” Briar said cheekily. He laughed before sobering. “I was at that. I wasn’t looking per se. I just thought I’d meet her when the Stone Father arranged it, though it did begin to feel strange as time passed.”

“I can imagine it would.”

“Dis will be reticent at first, but she’ll grow to love you. She’d always been standoffish but she’s not malicious and she values loyalty above all else. I think with time you’ll get along well. It’ll be nice for her to have another dam- _lass_ around at any rate.”

Briar squeezed his hand lightly. “About that, how is it that you have so few dams?”

Thorin frowned and looked out over the water. “The Stone Father wills it. We have few dwarrowlings and very few of those are dams. I cannot claim to know his will or his plan for our people. Though I do wonder how we will continue in the coming years.”

“Did leaving Moria not help? You’ve said the safety of the Blue Mountains is a draw for your people?”

“Aye. We have stability here and in the Iron Hills of my cousins. Dwarrow meet their Ones and build lives and families to the best of their ability but it hasn’t been enough. We lost so many when Erebor fell and still more in the trials that followed. At least now we can rebuild.”

“Yes.” They sat in silence for a while; thinking about what he’d said when Bombur and his oddly large family returned to her thoughts. She asked about it.

He gave a small smile at her question. “They’re blessed beyond measure. Couples with such a gift are fondly called ‘throwbacks’ referring to a time many centuries ago when Dwarrow had large families in the manner of hobbits and men.”

That was news! “What changed?” she asked, now curious that there was a puzzle to solve but Thorin only shrugged. “I can’t say for sure.”

“But you have a theory?” she pressed.

He frowned, “I think our blood runs too hot and we call to battle too often. We kill and die more than we breed and eventually our very nature led to our downfall.”

Briar was sure that was part of it, but there must be more. She already had a few ideas that might help but she’d need to learn a lot more about dams and their lives before she could say for sure. She felt a spark of hope light in her chest to have a purpose among her husband’s people.

There must be so many couples longing for a child as her parents had been. Perhaps she could help the dwarrow the way Lord Elrond had helped the hobbits. “Pay it forward,” she murmured softly, mind already flooded with possibilities.

“What was that?” he asked with a confused look.

She gave him a bright smile, “Nothing much. I’m just happy,” she scooted closer to his side and coyly rested her free hand on his knee. “Did you want to be alone just to talk? Not that I mind either way?” she hurried to assure him, blushing at her own boldness.

“Hmm, is my little wife reading my mind?” He asked affectionately, turning to pull her into his arms until she rested astride his lap. “Truth be told I’ve missed kissing you properly.” He said softly.

“I’ve missed it as well,” she smiled against his lips cherishing the still strange feel of his whiskers against her cheeks. She hummed into his mouth, slipping her tongue past his lips when he opened to her. She tangled her fingers in his thick, dark hair and held him close.

Thorin slipped his hands beneath their cloaks to feel her soft figure beneath her warm, woolen gown. In spite of their best efforts to keep her well fed, she was slimmer than before, almost concerningly so. Though he supposed it made sense if they ate so much each day, their tiny bodies must burn through food more quickly than the other races. He pushed the thought aside, knowing that a feast and a full larder awaited them in his halls.

He groaned into her mouth as she caught his full attention by rocking against him through their layers of clothes. He pulled away with a reluctant chuckle. “This isn’t the best place to take this further.”

She blinked up at him in confusion, lips swollen pink. “Why not?”

He raised his eyebrows in alarm. “Under the open sky? You are a bold one.”

She laughed and tugged him back into another kiss. “Not so bold. The stars don’t judge us, they celebrate with us.”

After another prolonged kiss he pulled back again to ask her seriously. “You’re truly comfortable under the open sky?”

She smiled, almost indulgently-finally realizing why he'd never attempted to steal away and make love during their journey. “Of course I am. We worship life and growing things. How could I not be? Are you uncomfortable here?”

“I’ll always feel safest under living stone.” He hedged, taking in what she’d said with some surprise. Hobbits were far more daring than he'd imagined.

Her brow crinkled in confusion. “But the boys told me about swimming. Or is that only on your journeys?”

He leaned back on his elbows to enjoy the view of her above him in the moonlight. “There are rivers and lakes belowground, Sweet Briar.”

She perked up in interest, “Really? I’ve never heard of such!”

He gave a low chuckle at that. “I’ll show you them all, fair wife. But first we must return to camp before you freeze and your protectors have my head.”

She sighed and leaned forward to rub their noses together lightly. “Just a bit longer?”

Thorin feared his inability to refuse her anything. “Alright.” He wrapped her up tightly in his cloak and tugged her to lay on his chest with a small laugh. They rested together in comfortable silence. Thorin gazed up at the stars, and for the first time wondered if they were looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I hope you liked it! Anything you want to happen when they arrive in Thorin's Halls? Any Dwarf you want to see more of? Comment and let me know! Thanks for reading!xx


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company arrives in Ered Luin!! Words in bold are Khuzdul!

Thorin was relieved to be back home, breathing the thin, cool air of Ered Luin. The home he’d built for his people after their trials. A place of peace and plenty. He hid a smile at the memory of Briar calling him a hero for undertaking the task he couldn’t have refused even had he wanted to.

His grandfather had instilled in him a deep sense of responsibility to their people. Before he’d changed and it had all gone bad. Thorin hated to remember him at the end, lost to the damnable gold madness that stalked his line. Thror’s love of the wealth of their people had superseded his love for their people, his own kin, his beloved One until nothing mattered but amassing more wealth. Until he was forced to step down in favor of King Thrain, unable to attend his duties any longer. Until he was called the Dragon of Erebor in whispers around the kingdom.

Thorin knew that had Thror died in dragon fire their line would have been ended by extremists, afraid that Thror was the beast itself instead of simply the reason it had been drawn to the Lonely Mountain. He sighed to shake off his melancholy thoughts.

He was home _, finally_ all safe and accounted for in spite of the dangers of the long road and the Halls of Moria. He smiled down at Briar who was looking around the small settlement outside the walls with wide eyes. The journey had certainly been worth it.

~~

Briar hadn’t been expecting…this. Such a lovely little town at the base of the mountain and creeping upwards along the gradual slope like delicate vines of ivy. Neat, squat little houses and shops made of green and grey stone surely mined from the mountain itself. Protected by a massive stone barrier of the same materials, though she couldn’t tell how it was made.

Positively enormous slabs of stone-some larger than the largest house in the settlement- stacked high into the sky with nothing holding them together. The sight of it filled her belly with fear. What was stopping it from toppling in and crushing them all beneath tons of rock? She tightened her grip on her husband’s arm as they passed beneath the elaborately carved gateway to the town outside Thorin’s Halls. He gave her a concerned frown at the fear painted on her face.

“It’s a dry stacked interlocking wall, milady,” Nori said quietly at her side. She looked down at him in surprise. “It will last a thousand years,” he said almost absently, not drawing attention to her fearful reaction to something the dwarrow would never even have noticed as odd.

She relaxed slightly and gave him a small smile, relieved to have her fears soothed without needing to voice them.”Thank you, Nori.”

Thorin overheard their small exchange and shifted to wrap his arm around her comfortingly. “I’ll never allow harm to befall you or our people, Briar. The wall is here for the protection of those who live outside the mountain. It has held for a half century and will remain long after we feast in the halls of our fathers.” He said soothingly. She nodded and continued to look around the small town with its neatly cobbled streets that sloped into narrow ditches to keep the roads clean and dry. It was easily the size of Bree but far better protected what with walls and houses of stone instead of a wood.

 In spite of the snow fall of the past days and weeks, the roads were clear with massive drifts of snow piled in what looked like specified areas. “It’s all so orderly,” she beamed up at Thorin happily. “I’ll have to get used to paved streets.”

“I’m sure you won’t even notice them in time.”

“Give or take a few decades,” she said dryly, wondering how the cold stone would feel on her bare feet. Perhaps it would feel nice in summer?

“Where is everyone?” she asked, surprised that they hadn’t been bogged down by eager family and friends of the returning travelers. So far they had only see the gate guards who had waved them through cheerily and eyed her with open curiosity, but said nothing about her presence.

There were only a handful of pedestrians and only a few of the buildings had smoke curling from their chimneys.

Thorin was taken aback by yet another odd question. He wondered if Briar would ever cease to surprise him. “Inside the halls of course. The Ur’s will have told them we’re coming. They’re all likely rushing around preparing a feast to welcome us home. It will be warmer inside anyway.” He assured her kindly, feeling a great weight of concern lift off his shoulders once they entered the village. 

They were safe in the arms of the mountain.

“I could do with some warmth,” she agreed, tugging her scarf down so Kili could see her smile as he pointed out the archery training field and the shop the sold his favorite sweet buns.

Thorin laughed quietly as-not to be outdone- several other members of the company began pointing out their favorite features of The Slopes. The name of the small town he clarified. “You’ll have a whole guided tour before we reach the city proper.”

Briar swallowed to hide her nerves and gave another bright smile. “I’m sure I’ll learn my way around in no time.”

“Aunt Briar! We’re here!” Fili called over the clamor of their voices rising in the weak sunlight. And suddenly they were at the base of the mountain, its peak out of sight as it soared over head. Another, still larger gate of carved stone towered above them.

She grit her teeth to stop them chattering-from cold or fear she couldn’t tell-as the doors swung outward with a small creak that belied their size.

“Welcome home, Lord Thorin and Company,” a stout dwarf with a thick, intricately braided black beard greeted them in grave tones and what Briar supposed was a formal Dwarrish bow.

“Thank you, Arms Master Griln.” Thorin called out, voice not even echoing in the depths of the entryway which appeared to be a cave of some depth, well lit by numerous torches and strategically placed beveled mirrors. “You and your troops have performed your duties well in my absence. Your service to the crown is appreciated and shall not be forgotten,” he announced firmly.

Griln tilted his head in acknowledgement of his words, spine stiff with pride. “Lord Thorin.”

As if on cue, the company was swarmed with helpful hands as dozens of dwarrow hurried about relieving them of their burdens and pulling them into head butts and cheerful embraces.

Briar watched it all with wide eyes, mouth dry with anxiety not missing the suspicious looks and distrustful whispers her presence was already earning. “Ready?” Thorin asked softly, giving her hand a firm squeeze that helped center her in the moment.

“As I’ll ever be,” she said in a cracked whisper, tongue darting out to wet her lips.

Then Thorin was standing and pulling her to her feet at his side. The rushing chatter all fell silent as the assembled dwarrow held their breath eager for an explanation of her presence.

 **“My people. You have the great honor of welcoming my wife Briar Durin, formerly Baggins, to our home in Thorin’s Halls. She is my One and your lady.”** Stunned silence reigned for what felt like an age of the earth.

 **“She’s a hobbit!”** came a startled cry that had Briar consciously holding herself back from reaching to touch her distinctive ears. She squared her shoulders and gazed about with a welcoming mien. Whispers burst forth by the dozens and she wanted nothing more than to be back home.

 **“And your lady, you will treat her with the respect she is due,”** Fili stepped forwards, speaking with all the authority of his station as crown prince.

“All is well,” Thorin clasped her hand tightly before jumping from the cart and turning to lift her down where she was immediately flanked by Fili, Kili, and Dori. She said nothing, realizing that he didn’t know she’d understood the basics of the brief exchange.

She fought down a rather hysterical thought that at this rate she’d be fluent in Khuzdul by their first anniversary.

Thorin walked out to greet the steadily growing crowd and spoke in a firm, clear voice. **“Yes, my wife is a hobbit. She is my One, chosen for me by Mahal himself. As he is not here for you to question, you may bring any issues or concerns you have about her heritage to me.”** He all but growled; hand on the pommel of his sword in open threat.

Silence fell again as Ori leaned in to translate the rapid Khuzdul for her. She hoped her presence alone wasn't enough to start a riot.

 **“And us,”** Kili called out, both he and Fili gazing out at the unhappy and consternated crowd.

 **“The Ri’s stand with our lady and have claimed her as kin,”** Dori said formally, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. **"As have the Ur’s. She’s one of us and any insult to her will be repaid.”** The murmurs fell silent at these declarations, but it wasn’t the oppressive, hostile silence from before.

Seizing the moment, Arms Master Griln approached her and repeated his formal bow. “Welcome Home, Lady Durin.” He said in heavily accented Westron.

Following his lead, his gathered troops quickly re-gathered their formation and followed suit, bowing to her as one. “Lady Durin.”

Briar swallowed thickly, moved beyond words by their open support of her here in front of their people. With the support of the royal family, her adopted kin, and the gate battalion on her side, few now would be brave or reckless enough to speak out against her.

"Thank you good sirs. It is an honor to be here," she projected in an even, untroubled tone. Tilting her head in a small bow to acknowledge their welcome. by the Lady she hoped she was doing this right and doing naught to cause offence.

Dori gently ushered her to Thorin’s side where he offered her his arm. “Come wife; let me show you our kingdom.”

She gave him a smooth, open smile, well aware of the importance of making a good first impression. “Gladly. Please lead the way.”

It was time for her new life to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally here! What do you think of the settlement so far? Of Briar's welcome? What are you eager to see in Thorin's Halls? Please let me know! I'm working on the next chapters now! Remember, comments and kudos are love!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in this fandom! What did you think? Please point out any spelling or continuity errors and if anything doesn't make sense for Middle Earth! I'd love to hear your feedback! I happily take scene requests and suggestions! Thanks for reading!


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